T^PR  £S  1988 


BX    9178     .R5    S4x 

Richards,  James,  1767-1843 

Sermons 


Ztirh    by  Sa.7'on.y  Sr  J^cyo?-  JV.  Yhjft  ■ 


^/—<^-^^>^  i  c^<^  ^^^^^^  i>^A.^,,>^^'Sz> 


SERMONS 


BY  THE  LATE 


REV.  JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D. 


WITH   AN 


ESSAY  ON  HIS  CHARACTER. 


BY  WILLIAM  B.  SPRAGUE,  D.  D. 


ALBANY: 
ERASTUS  H.  PEASE  &  CO., 

No.  82  State  Street. 

1849. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  congress  in  the  year  1848,  by 

E.  H.  PEASE  &  CO., 

ill  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Northern  District  of  New  York. 


3.  Plungell,  i^rfntfr, 


CONTENTS. 


ESSAY 
On  the  character  of  Rev.  James  Richards,  D.  D.,         5 

SERMON  I. 
God's  universal  presence,         ,         -         -         .  39 

SERMON  II. 
God's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours,         -         -       55 

SERMON  III. 
God's  favour  to  the  upright,     -         -         -         -  70 

SERMON  IV. 
Life  a  pilgrimage, 84 

SERMON  V, 
The  rich  fool, 101 

SERMON  VI. 
The  ark  of  the  Lord, 114 

SERMON  VII. 
Behaviour  appropriate  to  God's  house,      -         -         134 

SERMON  VIII. 
Disinterestedness  of  true  religion,       -         -         -     150 


IV.  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  IX. 
Progressive  course  of  the  Christian,         -         -         163 

SERMON  X. 

Confidence  in  God  productive  of  peace,        -         -     181 

SERMON  XI. 
The  heart  of  man  proved  by  the  Providence  of 

God, 199 

SERMON  XXL 
The  spirit  of  Clirist, 214 

SERMON  XIII. 
Darkness  surrounding  God's  righteous  throne,         232 

SERMON  XIV. 
Duty  of  submission, 248 

SERMON  XV. 
The  spirit  of  Paul  the  spirit  of  Missions,         -         271 

SERMON  XVI. 
This  world  is  not  our  rest,         -         -         .         .     297 

SERMON  XVII. 
Sleeping  in.  Jesus.  -         -         .         .         .         313 

SERMON  XVIII. 
Thanksgiving, 331 

SERMON  XIX. 
Duty  of  sustaining  an  educated  ministry,         -         348 

ADDRESS 
On  the  death  of  Mrs.  Cumming,         -         -         -     374 


THSOLC  lJ- 


ESSAY  ON  THE  CHARACTER 


OF    THE 


REY.  JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D. 


There  are  not  only  many  duties  which  the  living 
owe  to  the  living,  but  some  which  the  living  owe  to 
the  dead.  Especially  when  a  great  and  good  man 
dies, — one  who  has  occupied  an  important  station,  and 
wielded  a  powerful  influence,  and  been  not  only  ex- 
tensively known  but  greatly  beloved  and  venerated 
during  his  life, — when  such  an  one  is  removed  from  the 
world,  he  has  claims  upon  those  who  survive  him  which 
it  were  alike  unreasonable  and  ungrateful  to  disregard. 
It  is  due  to  him,  first,  that  his  memory  should  be  che- 
rished with  aifectionate  respect;  that  they  who  have 
been  edified  and  improved  by  his  wisdom,  and  they 
who  have  walked  in  the  light  of  his  example,  and  even 
they  who  have  come  more  remotely  under  his  benign 
influence,  should  embalm  his  virtues  in  their  grateful 
and  enduring  remembrance.  Nor  is  this  the  limit  of 
their  obligations:  they  are  bound  to  do  what  they  can 
to  enlarge  and  perpetuate  his  usefulness;  for  though  it 
is  the  ordinance  of  Heaven  that  the  actions  and  charac- 
2 


6  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

ters  of  a  good  man  should  survive  his  earthly  existence, 
and  operate  through  various  channels  in  moulding  the 
characters  and  destinies  of  those  who  come  after  him, 
yet  it  is  within  the  power  of  those  who  survive  him 
greatly  to  increase  the  energy  as  well  as  to  widen  the 
sphere  of  his  posthumous  influence.  This  may  be  done 
in  various  ways:  let  it  suffice  here  to  mention  only  two. 
Such  a  person  has  certainly  left  to  the  world  the  legacy 
of  an  exalted  character:  it  devolves  on  those  who  come 
after  him  to  see  that  nothing  be  wanting  to  secure  its 
legitimate  effect,  in  suitably  displaying  its  attractions 
and  in  giving  it  all  due  notoriety.  Perhaps  he  has  also 
left  productions  of  his  pen,  which,  by  being  given  to 
the  world,  might  be  in  the  place  of  the  living  teacher, 
and  might  do  much  in  aid  of  the  cause  of  intellectual 
or  moral  improvement:  such  productions  surely  ought 
to  be  sent  forth  on  a  mission  of  good ;  and  to  keep 
them  back  were  little  less  than  to  be  accessary  to  the 
burying  of  talents  in  the  earth. 

It  will  not  be  denied  by  any  competent  and  impartial 
judge  that  the  individual  whose  character  is  to  form  the 
subject  of  these  remarks,  was  one  of  the  greater  lights 
of  our  American  church.  If  there  have  been  those 
who  have  excelled  him  in  particular  qualities  of  mind, 
or  particular  departments  of  usefulness,  who  have  moved 
in  a  more  brilliant  path  or  enjoyed  a  more  extended 
popularity,  it  is  believed  there  have  been  very  few,  at 
least  of  his  own  generation,  whose  general  excellence 
and  usefulness  have  been  more  universally  acknow- 
ledged. As  a  sketch  of  his  life  and  character  has  been 
given  to  the  world  in  connection  with  his  theological 


OF    THE    REV.  JAMES    RICHARDS,    D.  D.  7 

lectures,  it  is  not  intended  in  the  present  brief  Essay  to 
attempt  a  repetition  of  that  service;  but  only  to  hint 
at  some  of  the  more  prominent  facts  and  characteristics 
which  have  been  already  brought  out  in  his  Biography, 
in  connection  with  their  general  bearing  on  the  charac- 
ter of  the  ministry  and  the  prospects  of  the  church.* 

It  may  be  w^orth  while  to  advert  briefly  to  the  in- 
strumentalities by  which  his  character  was  formed; — 
the  circumstances  which  Providence  employed  for  that 
early  development  and  direction  of  his  faculties,  which 
had  so  much  to  do  in  ultimately  making  him  what  he 
was  in  his  various  relations. 

First  of  all,  he  was  uncommonly  favoured  in  respect 
to  his  birth.  His  parents  were  indeed  in  humble 
worldly  circumstances, — only  a  single  degree  removed 


*As  this  work  may  possibly  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  who  have 
not  access  to  the  more  extended  sketch  of  his  life,  I  have  thought 
it  best  to  present  here  an  epitome  of  his  history. 

He  was  the  son  of  James  and  Ruth  Richards,  and  was  born  at 
New  Canaan,  Connecticut,  Oct.  29,  1767.  He  served  at  a  me- 
chanical trade  in  his  boyhood,  and  laboured  successively  at  New- 
town, Danbury,  and  Stamford.  He  became  hopefully  a  subject  of 
renewing  grace  when  he  was  in  his  nineteenth  year,  and  united 
with  the  congregational  church  in  Stamford.  He  commenced  his 
course  of  study  preparatory  to  entering  college  under  the  Rev.  J. 
Mitchell  of  New  Canaan  and  finished  it  under  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bur- 
nett  of  Norwalk.  He  entered  Yale  College  in  the  autumn  of  1789, 
and  from  his  inability  to  meet  his  expenses,  was  obliged  to  leave  at 
the  close  of  his  freshman  year.  He  returned  to  Norwalk  and  re- 
sumed his  studies  for  a  while  under  Dr.  Burnett,  and  afterwards  in 
1791,  he  went  to  Greenfield  where  he  enjoyed  the  instruction  of 
Dr.  Dwight  through  his  whole  subsequent  course  until  he  entered 
the  ministry. 


8  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

above  indigence;  but  they  were  rich  in  faith  and  heirs 
of  the  kingdom:  his  mother  particularly  possessed  ster- 
ling intellectual  as  well  as  moral  qualities, — great 
natural  common  sense  and  discretion  as  well  as  energy 
and  perseverance,  while  the  crowning  attribute  of  her 
character  was  an  earnest  and  consistent  piety.  It  were 
impossible  but  that  a  child  of  such  parents  should  early 
be  brought  in  contact  with  those  influences  which  are 
best  fitted  to  give  a  right  direction  to  the  youthful 
character;  and  such  we  find  was  actually  the  case  in 
respect  to  young  Richards:  the  best  efforts  which  pa- 
rental solicitude  and  discretion  and  piety  could  dictate, 
were  put  forth,  during  his  earliest  years,  to  form  him  to 
virtue  and  usefulness;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  in- 
fluence which  was  thereby  exerted  gave  the  permanent 
stamp  to  his  character  and  life.  It  is  in  the  Christian 
nursery  that  the  hopes  of  the  ministry  and  ultimately 

He  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  association  in  the  western  dis- 
trict of  Fairfield  county  in  1793.  He  was  engaged  for  a  short 
time  as  a  supply  at  Ballston,  N.  Y.,  and  afterwards  simultaneouslj' 
at  Sag  Harbor  and  Shelter  Island.  In  June  1794  he  was  called  to 
the  pastoral  charge  of  the  church  at  Morristown :  he  finally  accepted 
the  call  though  his  installation  did  not  take  place  till  May,  1797. 
He  was  married  in  November  1794  to  Miss  Caroline  Cowles  of 
Farmington,  Conn.,  a  lady  of  great  excellence  who  has  died  within 
the  last  year.  In  1809  he  received  and  accepted  a  call  from  the 
First  Presbyterian  church  in  Newark  to  become  their  pastor,  that 
church  having  been  rendered  vacant  by  Dr.  Griffin's  acceptance  of 
an  invitation  to  a  professorship  in  the  Andover  Theological  Semi- 
nary. In  1823  he  accepted  the  professorship  at  Auburn,  and  was 
inaugurated  October  29th  of  that  year.  He  died  August  2,  1843. 
He  had  seven  children;  four  of  whom  survived  him.  One  of  his 
sons  is  a  Presbyterian  clergyman  in  Morristown,  New  Jersey. 


f 


OF   THE    REV.  JAMES   RICHARDS,   D.  D.  9 

the  hopes  of  the  church  are  peculiarly  fixed.  Instances 
indeed  there  are  of  extensive  usefulness  and  even  great 
eminence  in  the  clerical  profession,  where  there  has  not 
been  the  advantage  of  an  early  religious  training, — 
where  God  has  seemed  to  take  the  work  of  conversion 
so  entirely  into  his  own  hands,  that  it  has  borne  almost 
the  aspect  of  a  miracle;  but  in  all  ordinary  cases,  it 
will  be  found  that  faithful  ministers  of  the  gospel  are 
the  children  of  pious  parents,  and  that  their  earliest 
impressions  of  the  importance  of  religion  are  associated 
with  the  recollection  of  an  excellent  mother's  counsels 
and  prayers.  In  the  distribution  of  blessings  in  the 
present  life,  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  God  deals 
more  bountifully  with  any  than  with  those  whom  he 
renders  instrumental  of  forming  their  children  to  exalted 
piety  and  usefulness.  Such  a  mother  may  be  little 
known  on  earth,  but  there  is  a  glorious  record  of  her  in 
Heaven.  She  may  live  in  obscurity  and  poverty,  and 
after  she  is  gone  there  may  be  no  monument  to  tell 
where  her  ashes  repose;  but  if  she  has  done  nothing 
else  than  put  one  mind  on  the  track  to  honorable  use^ 
fulness  and  to  a  glorious  immortality,  she  has  done  that 
which  w^ill  confer  upon  herself  enduring  honour,  and 
which  will  ultimately  throw  the  brightest  exploits  of 
mere  worldly  heroism  into  the  shade.  It  were  well  for 
the  church  that  Christian  parents  should  have  their 
privileges  as  well  as  duties  constantly  held  up  before 
them.  Let  the  obscurest  mother  in  Israel  take  courage 
and  comfort  in  the  thought  that  she  knows  not  but  that 
by  God's  blessing  upon  her  parental  efforts,'  she  may 
set  up  some  great  light  in  the  church,  which  shall 
*2 


10  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

connect  her  humble  instrumentality  with  the  progressive 
triumphs  of  God's  grace  through  all  coming  genera- 
tions. 

The  next  thing  worthy  of  notice  in  respect  to  Dr. 
Richards, — and  it  is  to  be  referred  immediately  to  the 
circumstances  of  his  birth, — is  that  he  was  a  self  made 
man.  As  the  straitened  condition  of  his  parents 
forbade  their  giving  him  the  advantages  of  a  liberal 
education,  he  saw,  when  the  purpose  of  devoting  him- 
self to  the  ministry  was  formed,  that  his  own  faculties 
must  be  tasked  to  the  utmost  in  order  to  accomplish  it; 
and  he  went  to  work  with  all  the  zeal  inspired  by  a 
strong  conviction  of  duty  on  the  one  hand,  and  a 
naturally  heroic  and  persevering  spirit  on  the  other. 
During  his  earliest  years  he  suffered  not  a  little  from  ill 
health;  and  even  after  he  had  commenced  his  prepara- 
tion for  college,  he  was  obliged  to  suspend  it  for  some 
months,  on  account  of  bodily  indisposition  and  especially 
a  distressing  weakness  of  the  eyes;  but  none  of  all 
these  things  moved  him,  or  led  him  even  to  falter  in  his 
determination,  if  his  life  were  spared,  to  preach  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ.  Providence  kindly  brought 
to  his  aid  good  friends,  whose  timely  benefactions  were 
a  great  encouragement  to  him;  though  they  did  not,  by 
any  means,  supersede  the  necessity  of  his  own  vigorous 
exertions.  His  college  course  was  early  interrupted 
for  want  of  the  requisite  pecuniary  means;  and  after 
he  had  left  college  and  was  still  struggling  to  carry 
forward  his  education  in  private,  amidst  the  incon- 
veniences incident  to  poverty,  severe  sickness  came 
again  and  brought  him  so  near  the  grave  that  his  re- 


OF   THE    REV.  JAMES    RICHARDS,  D.  D.  11 

covery  was  regarded  as  an  almost  miraculous  inter- 
position. At  a  still  later  period  we  find  him  engaged 
in  teaching  a  school  with  a  view  to  sustain  himself  in 
his  subsequent  studies;  and  in  the  last  stage  of  his 
preparation  for  the  ministry  (for  in  his  case  the  literary 
and  the  theological  were  necessarily  blended  into  the 
same  course)  he  enjoys  the  instruction  of  that  great 
and  good  man,  Dr.  D wight,  who  afterwards  became 
President  of  Yale  College,  and  was  instrumental  in 
procuring  for  him  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts. 
Thus  it  appears  that  his  course  from  the  beginning  was 
made  up  of  a  succession  of  struggles  with  poverty  and 
misfortune.  But  for  his  own  indomitable  resolve  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  his  fellow  creatures,  he  never 
could  have  submitted  to  such  a  protracted  course  of 
self  denying  effort.  And  yet  it  is  worthy  of  remark 
that  during  this  whole  period  Providence  kept  him  in 
contact  with  those  influences  which  were  best  fitted  to 
aid  in  the  formation  of  an  exalted  character.  His 
religious  associations  were  of  the  purest  and  most 
elevated  kind;  and  during  a  large  part  of  the  time  he 
breathed  an  intellectual  atmosphere  than  which  the 
country  scarcely  afforded  any  that  was  more  quickening 
and  healthful. 

It  is  no  doubt  to  these  manifold  and  varied  conflicts 
with  difficulty,  that  we  are  to  look  for  some  of  the 
primary  elements  of  Dr.  Richards's  commanding  charac- 
ter and  usefulness.  Had  he  been  born  and  reared  in 
circumstances  of  opulence,  and  always  felt  himself  in- 
dependent of  any  personal  effort  for  education  or  even 
subsistence,  it  is  no  wise  improbable  that  he  might 


12  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

never  have  been  heard  of  in  the  walks  of  usefulness 
and  honour, — never  have  learned  the  use  or  scarcely 
the  existence  of  his  noble  faculties.  But  Providence 
placed  him  in  the  very  circumstances  which  were  best 
adapted  to  quicken  both  his  intellectual  and  moral 
faculties  into  vigorous  exercise;  and  though  it  seemed 
a  severe  discipline,  no  doubt  it  will  be  seen  at  last  to 
have  connected  itself  with  his  noblest  achievements  on 
earth  and  his  holiest  hallelujahs  in  Heaven. 

It  were  a  matter  of  no  small  interest  to  ascertain 
what  proportion  of  the  master  spirits  in  the  various  de- 
partments of  honorable  usefulness,  have  been  subjected 
in  early  life  to  the  discipline  of  poverty,  and  to  the 
necessity  of  reliance  on  their  own  personal  efforts. 
That  very  many  who  have  had  such  an  experience  have 
risen  to  great  eminence,  no  one  will  question;  and  a 
moment's  reflection  suggests  all  the  considerations 
that  are  necessary  to  account  for  it.  The  fact  that  the 
resolution  should  be  taken  amidst  such  discouraging 
circumstances,  to  gain  the  requisite  qualifications  for 
any  profession,  and  especially  for  that  of  a  minister  of 
the  gospel,  shows  a  strength  of  purpose  that  will  be 
sure  to  triumph  over  any  difficulties  that  may  lie  in  the 
way;  and  then  the  very  discipline  of  the  faculties  by 
which  such  triumph  is  achieved,  is  a  fitting  preparation 
for  yet  higher  intellectual  efforts;  for  while  it  reveals 
to  the  mind  more  and  more  of  its  own  capabilities,  and 
renders  it  increasingly  familiar  with  the  legitimate  use 
of  its  own  powers,  it  imparts  additional  intensity  to  the 
desire  of  knowledge,  and  additional  energy  to  the 
spirit  of  perseverance.     And  it  is  easy  to  see  how  this 


OF    THE    REV.  JAMES    RICHARDS,  D.  D.  13 

influence  extends  to  the  religious  character  also.  Great 
attainments  in  piety  are  never  the  result  of  superficial 
or  feeble  efforts.  The  mind  in  its  communings  with 
itself  and  its  God,  in  exploring  the  depths  of  its  own 
depravity,  and  in  ascertaining  the  various  practical 
bearings  of  divine  truth  upon  its  condition  and  pros- 
pects, in  such  a  manner  as  to  subserve  in  the  highest 
degree  its  own  spirituality,  can  never  be  in  a  sluggish 
frame:  its  faculties  must  be  tasked  to  the  utmost;  and 
that  not  for  any  given  period,  but  until  it  has  sustained 
its  final  conflict  in  death.  Now  admitting  that  the  new 
creating  act  hath  been  performed  upon  the  soul,  and  the 
faculties  have  once  received  a  right  direction  from  the 
spirit  of  God,  there  is  much  in  such  a  condition  as  is 
now  supposed,  to  encourage  the  hope  of  a  sound  and 
rapid  growth  in  piety.  To  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that 
in  all  ordinary  cases,  there  is  a  comparative  absence  of 
those  temptations  which  usually  act  upon  young  Christ- 
ians with  the  greatest  power,  particularly  the  tempta- 
tions to  a  habit  of  worldliness  and  gaiety, — the  very  cir- 
cumstance that  the  faculties  are  kept  in  vigorous  exer- 
cise in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  from  right  motives, 
will  be  likely  to  enlist  a  corresponding  degree  of  vigor 
in  the  exercises  of  devotion,  and  in  all  those  efforts 
that  have  special  reference  to  the  cultivation  of  the 
spiritual  mind.  Cases  indeed  there  are  in  which  the 
desire  of  intellectual  improvement  seems  for  a  time  to 
get  the  ascendancy  over  the  desire  for  religious  culture; 
but  in  the  great  majority  of  instances  it  will  be  found 
that  the  intellectual  and  the  spiritual  keep  pace  in  some 
good  degree  w^ith  each  other,  and  that  of  those  who 


14  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

enter  the  ministry,  not  only  the  most  vigorous  and 
thoroughly  furnished  minds  but  the  best  disciplined 
hearts  are  rather  more  frequently  found  among  the  class 
who  owe  their  education  under  God  to  their  own  efforts, 
than  any  other. 

The  character  of  Dr.  Richards's  early  religious  ex- 
perience also,  deserves  to  be  considered  in  its  bearing 
upon  his  subsequent  life.  The  leading  truths  of  the 
gospel  he  learned  from  his  mother's  lips;  and  though 
for  some  time  the  seed  which  she  had  sown  in  his  in- 
fant mind,  did  not  seem  to  vegetate,  or  at  least  to  bring 
forth  fruit,  yet  in  due  time,  those  precious  doctrines, 
under  the  quickening  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
asserted  their  power  over  him,  waking  his  intellect,  his 
conscience,  his  whole  inner  man,  into  vigorous  and 
solemn  exercise.  It  was  no  superficial  view  of  the 
evil  of  sin,  and  the  corruption  of  his  own  heart  that 
constituted  the  preparation  for  his  acceptance  of  the 
terms  of  the  gospel:  on  the  contrary  the  arrows  of  the 
Almighty  well  nigh  drank  up  his  spirits.  He  was 
brought  to  realize  not  only  his  aggravated  guilt,  his 
utter  ruin,  but  his  absolute  helplessness.  In  the  spirit 
of  self  righteousness,  he  cast  about  him  for  some  other 
refuge  than  the  Saviour,  unwilling  to  be  indebted  for 
his  salvation  to  God's  sovereign  grace;  but  he  saw  that 
his  efforts  were  all  unavailing,  and  he  found  no  peace 
to  his  troubled  spirit,  till  he  let  go  of  every  other  hold 
for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  As  his  conviction  of  sin 
was  uncommonly  deep  and  pungent,  and  as  his  exercises 
at  the  commencement  of  the  Christian  life  were  emi- 
nently evangelical,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  these  fea- 


OF    THE    REV.    JAMES    RICHARDS,  D.   D.  15 

lures  of  his  incipient  religious  experience  had  much  to 
do  in  giving  the  complexion  to  his  religious  character 
through  life.  Some  there  are  indeed  who  seem  to  be 
brought  into  the  kingdom  by  the  same  thoruy  way, 
evincing  at  first  great  depth  of  anguish  and  great  depth 
of  penitence,  w4io  subsequently  disappoint  the  hopes 
inspired  by  their  earliest  experience;  but  in  his  case 
there  was  never  the  semblance  of  a  retreat;  w^hat  he 
was  at  the  beginning  was  a  sample  of  what  he  was  ever 
afterw^ards,  except  that  his  path  was  always  growing 
brighter.  There  is  no  evidence  that  there  ever  was  a 
period  w^hen  he  could  be  said  to  have  declined  materi- 
ally in  the  vigor  of  his  religious  feelings;  and  those 
who  knew  him  best  were  most  strongly  impressed  with 
the  depth  and  powder  of  his  experience.  It  was  a  strik- 
ing feature  of  his  ministry  that  in  his  intercourse  with 
those  w^ho  were  awakened  to  a  sense  of  sin,  and  those 
who  indulged  the  hope  that  they  w^ere  reconciled  to 
God,  he  w'as  specially  cautious  to  put  them  on  their 
guard  against  a  spurious  religion;  taking  all  pains  to 
give  the  law  its  legitimate  supremacy  over  their  con- 
sciences, that  they  might  feel  themselves  absolutely  shut 
up  to  the  faith,  and  might  cast  themselves  without  re- 
serve on  God's  sovereign  grace  in  Jesus  Christ.  Hence 
it  came  to  pass  that  in  his  latter  days,  when  revivals  of 
religion  for  a  time  and  in  certain  parts  of  the  country 
had  degenerated  into  scenes  of  extravagance,  and  con- 
versions had  become  little  more  than  a  mere  matter  of 
mechanical  impulse,  he  saw^  in  thisstate  of  things  every 
thing  adverse  to  the  progress  of  evangelical  and  vital 
piety;  it  was  a  new  type  of  religion  that  had  no  counter- 


16  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

part  in  his  own  experience;  and  he  felt  himself  called 
upon  boldly  and  earnestly  to  protest  against  it,  even  at 
the  expense  of  being  denounced  as  an  enemy  to  the 
cause  for  which  he  w^as  willing  to  die. 

The  most  important  element  of  power  in  the  ministry 
no  doubt  is  its  religious  character;  and  that  is  decided 
in  this  country  at  least,  in  a  great  measure,  by  the 
character  of  revivals.  Let  such  revivals  prevail  as  the 
American  church  has  known  at  some  periods  of  her 
history,  in  which  the  conversions  for  the  most  part  are 
substantially  such  as  that  of  which  Dr.  Richards  was 
the  subject,  and  we  may  expect  that  our  young  men  who 
come  out  of  these  revivals  into  the  ministry,  will  bring 
with  them  an  earnest  evangelical  spirit,  and  will  be 
safe  guides  in  the  great  matter  of  directing  souls  to 
Christ.  But  let  the  mechanical  mode  of  "  getting  up" 
revivals  and  making  converts  prevail, — let  it  be  under- 
stood that  the  occupancy  of  a  particular  seat  brings  a 
person  near  the  kingdom,  and  the  avowal  of  a  purpose 
to  serve  God  brings  him  into  it; — and  if  the  ministry 
is  to  be  supplied  from  the  ranks  of  such  converts  as 
these,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  it  will  be  a 
ministry  of  death  rather  than  of  life;  and  though  it 
may  possibly  bring  many  into  the  church,  yet  few  of 
them  will  be  such  as  shall  be  saved.  There  is  no  more 
important  reason  for  guarding  the  purity  of  the  church, 
and  the  avenues  to  the  church,  than  the  bearing  w^hich 
it  has  upon  the  future  character  of  its  ministers;  for  a 
godless  ministry,  a  worldly  ministry,  even  a  fanatical 
ministry,  is  an  incubus  beneath  which  the  church  can 
never  rise  in  her  strength  and  beauty. 


OF    THE    REV.  JAMES    RICHARDS,  D.  D.  17 

The  period  at  which  Dr.  Richards  entered  upon  his 
professional  career,  must  not  be  overlooked  in  an  esti- 
mate of  those  influences  by  which  his  character  as  a 
minister  of  the  gospel  was  formed.  It  was  just  about 
the  dawn  of  a  new  and  brighter  epoch  in  the  history  of 
the  church; — when  she  had  begun  to  awake  from  a 
long  and  ignoble  slumber, — to  cast  off  her  works  of 
darkness  and  put  on  her  armour  of  light.  It  was  just 
at  the  time  when  she  was  receiving  a  fresh  baptism  of 
the  spirit  of  revivals  and  the  spirit  of  missions,  and  her 
heart  began  to  throb  in  more  vigorous  pulsations  as  her 
faith  grasped  the  promise  of  millennial  glory; — it  was 
just  then  that  this  excellent  man  entered  upon  his  work 
as  an  ambassador  of  the  Son  of  God  And  he  drank 
in  largely  the  quickening  spirit  of  the  times.  He  took 
the  most  comprehensive  views  of  the  nature  and  ob- 
jects of  the  work  to  which  he  had  devoted  himself. 
He  mingled  with  men  who  were  fervent  in  spirit  and 
mighty  \vith  God,  and  he  became  himself  as  fervent 
and  mighty  as  they.  And  the  impulse  which  he  re- 
ceived then  had  no  doubt  much  to  do  in  giving  the 
complexion  to  his  life.  He  was  a  zealous  and  success- 
ful promoter  of  revivals  as  long  as  he  lived;  while  he 
lamented  in  his  latter  days  that  the  gold  had  become 
dim  and  the  fine  gold  changed.  Connected  as  he  was 
with  some  of  our  earliest  modern  missionary  operations, 
his  eye  and  his  heart  were  always  fixed  upon  the  ulti- 
mate regeneration  of  the  world;  he  watched  the  pro- 
gress of  events  continually,  in  its  bearing  on  the  inte- 
rests of  Christ's  kingdom;  and  every  propitious  sign 
he  noted  with  overflowing  gratitude.  Had  he  come 
3 


18  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

upon  the  stage  a  quarter  of  a  century  earlier,  when  the 
storm  of  the  revolution  was  gathering  and  bursting 
upon  the  country,  and  the  church  and  even  her  ministry 
was  absorbed  in  a  great  degree  in  matters  of  political 
import,  who  can  tell  by  how  much  less  of  devotion  to 
his  master's  w^ork,  and  of  usefulness  in  his  master's 
cause,  at  home  and  abroad,  his  course  might  have  been 
marked?  Who  can  say  that  he  would  have  even  been 
heard  of  by  posterity  as  a  faithful  minister  of  Christ, — 
much  less  as  such  a  noble  witness  to  the  power  and 
honour  of  the  cross? 

If  there  was  much  in  the  state  of  the  times  when 
Dr.  Richards  entered  the  ministry  to  give  a  favourable 
impulse  to  his  mind  and  to  secure  to  his  labours  the 
happiest  results,  surely  there  is  that  in  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  church  and  the  world  that  is  fitted  to 
impart  still  higher  encouragement  and  operate  with 
still  greater  power,  in  respect  to  those  who  engage  in 
the  same  sacred  vocation  now.  Be  it  so  that  revivals 
of  religion  have  in  latter  years  declined  in  purity,  and 
as  a  legitimate  consequence,  in  frequency  too;  and  that 
the  argument  for  exertion  here  is  drawn  rather  from 
the  lamented  absence  of  the  Spirit's  quickening  influ- 
ence than  from  the  visible  and  glorious  triumphs  of 
divine  grace, — yet  the  case  is  far  different  in  respect 
to  missions:  the  desire  to  give  the  gospel  to  all  the 
nations,  accompanied  by  a  corresponding  course  of 
conduct,  has  been  regularly  growing  stronger  and 
reaching  farther,  until  now  a  large  part  of  evangelical 
Christendom  may  be  considered  as  enlisted  in  this 
glorious  cause.     And  the  success  has  greatly  exceeded 


OF   THE    REV.  JAMES    RICHARDS,  D.  D.  19 

the  measure  of  effort  that  has  been  put  forth:  God  has 
shown  himself  more  ready  to  give  than  the  church  has 
been  to  ask;  and  He  is  at  work  now  on  a  large  scale, 
by  his  providence  as  well  as  by  his  grace.  These  con- 
vulsions that  are  taking  place  among  the  nations  in 
such  rapid  succession  as  to  have  assumed  the  character 
of  ordinary  events,  will  no  doubt  be  seen  a  little  while 
hence  to  have  been  the  harbingers  of  the  Redeemer's 
universal  reign.  What  advantages  are  conferred,  what 
obligations  are  devolved,  by  such  a  state  of  things  as 
this  upon  the  rising  ministry  I  What  a  privilege  to  be 
called  to  thrust  in  the  sickle  when  the  fields  are  white, 
already  to  harvest!  What  mighty  responsibility  to  be 
charged  with  the  spiritual  interests  of  the  church,  when 
she  is  moving  forward  with  an  ever  increasing  rapidity! 
It  were  bad  enough  to  be  an  indolent,  inefficient  min- 
ister of  Christ  in  any  circumstances;  but  to  be  so  now, 
would  seem  like  a  deliberate  attempt  to  obstruct  the 
chariot  wheels  of  Zion's  King.  A  minister  sleeping  at 
his  post  amidst  the  deepest  darkness,  were  a  pitiable  ob- 
ject; but  who  shall  describe  the  sin  and  the  shame  of 
being  found  asleep,  when  the  light  of  the  sun  of  right- 
eousness shines  with  so  much  strength  that  the  church  is 
expecting  soon  to  see  it  brighten  into  millennial  glory? 
In  attemptmg  an  outline  of  Dr.  Richards's  character, 
it  is  not  necessary,  even  if  it  were  possible,  to  distin- 
guish accurately  between  the  provinces  of  nature  and 
of  grace;  to  show  how  much  he  was  indebted  for  his 
greatness  and  excellence  to  God's  creating  power  and 
goodness,  and  how  much  to  the  sanctifying  influences 
of  his  Spirit,  and  how  much  to  the  benignant  orderings 


20  ESSAY   ON   THE    CHARACTER 

of  his  providence,  for  the  favourable  development  ot 
his  intellectual  and  moral  faculties.  Instead  of  insti- 
tuting any  comparison  between  these  several  agencies 
in  the  formation  of  his  character,  we  contemplate  it  as 
actually  formed  in  all  its  noble  and  goodly  proportions; 
and  though  the  view  we  take  of  it  be  a  rapid  and 
general  one,  it  can  hardly  fail  to  minister  to  our  growth 
in  virtue  and  usefulness. 

To  begin  with  what  was  external  and  visible — Dr. 
Richards  was  eminently  favoured  in  respect  to  his 
person.  He  had  a  fine,  commanding  stature,  towering 
above  men  of  ordinary  and  even  extraordinary  dimen- 
sions. He  was  every  way  well  proportioned,  and 
though  his  movements  were  not  otherwise  than  easy, 
yet  they  were  perhaps  characterized  rather  by  dignity 
than  gracefulness.  In  his  face  there  was  a  delightful 
blending  of  the  intellectual  and  the  moral:  there  was 
expressed  in  it  an  honesty  that  invited  confidence,  a 
generosity  that  awakened  admiration,  a  tenderness  that 
could  wake  to  the  first  notes  of  sorrow,  a  firmness  of 
purpose  that  was  like  the  everlasting  hills,  and  a  power 
of  thought  that  inspired  even  the  casual  passer-by  with 
respect  and  veneration.  And  his  manners  were  in  fine 
keeping  with  his  person:  they  were  bland  and  digni- 
fied, without  the  semblance  of  affectation  or  austerity 
on  the  one  hand,  or  of  any  thing  that  approached 
to  levity  on  the  other.  In  short,  he  was  a  fine 
specimen  of  a  Christian  gentleman.  His  majestic 
form,  his  bright  and  cheerful  countenance,  the  tout  en- 
semble of  his  manner,  prepossessed  the  stranger  in  his 
favour  before  he  opened  his  lips;  and  it  is  hardly  ne- 


OF    THE    REV.    JAMES    RICHARDS,    D.  D.  21 

cessary  to  say  that  when  he  did  speak,  all  that  was 
promised  in  his  appearance  was  fulfilled  in  his  con- 
versation. 

It  must  be  acknowledged,  that  in  respect  to  the  ad- 
vantages of  mere  person,   it  is  not   given  to   men  to 
exercise   any  control;  this  being  a  matter  which  the 
Creator  has  kept  entirely  in  his  own  hands.     But  it  is 
otherwise  in  regard  to  the  manners;  and  though  even 
here  some  have  originally  much  the  advantage  of  others, 
yet  every  one,  and  especially  every  one  whose  lot  is  cast 
amidst  decent  society,  may,  if  he  will,  avoid  offensive  pe- 
culiarities,— may  render  himself  at  least  acceptable,  if 
not  attractive.    It  is  the  more  important  to  advert  to  this 
subject  here,  as  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  intellectual 
and  moral  attainments  of  many  a  clergyman  are  under- 
valued and  his  usefulness  not  a  little  abridged,   simply 
from  his  neglect   of  those  numberless    and    nameless 
little  things  which  enter  into  the  character  of  a  gentle- 
man.    A  clergyman,  from  the  very  nature  of  his  vo- 
cation, moves  in  all   circles  of  society,  not   excepting 
the  highest;  and  if  he  have  no  respect  to  decent  and 
polite  usages, — if  he  offend  at  every  step  by  his  rude- 
ness and  vulgarity,  even  though  it  be  the  effect  of  mere 
ignorance,  it  is  impossible  but  that  a  revolting  associa- 
tion with  him  and  even  with  his  office  will  be  estab- 
lished in  many  minds.     It  is  possible  indeed  that  a  man 
may  have  such  transcendant  intellectual  powers  as  shall 
in  some  measure  neutralize  this  unpropitious  influence; 
but  there  is  no  man  whose  powers  are  so  great  but  that 
he  would  accomplish  far  more  with  good  manners  than 
without  them.     Fortunately  there  has  been  an  adraira* 
3* 


22  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

ble  treatise  on  this  subject,  written  by  a  venerable  pro- 
fessor in  one  of  our  theological  seminaries — himself 
one  of  the  finest  examples  of  "  clerical  manners  and 
habits," — which  every  student  of  divinity  ought  to 
read  and  inwardly  digest,  till  it  has  had  its  legitimate 
effect  in  forming  him  for  the  most  cultivated  society. 
It  is  easy  to  speak  of  Dr.  Richards's  intellect,  as  in- 
deed it  is  of  his  whole  character,  from  the  remarkable 
clearness  of  his  mental  operations,  as  well  as  from  the 
just  proportions  in  which  his  mind  in  its  different  facul- 
ties was  constituted.  He  possessed  an  uncommon 
quickness  of  perception:  the  difficulties  that  beset  any 
subject  he  would  often  discover  at  a  glance,  when  a 
more  sluggish  but  perhaps  equally  powerful  intellect, 
would  linger  in  a  protracted  course  of  investigation. 
But  notwithstanding  he  saw  quickly  and  clearly,  he 
was  as  far  as  possible  from  being  precipitate  in  his  con- 
clusions: he  would  hold  an  abstruse  subject  in  earnest 
and  patient  inquiry,  throwing  his  mind  into  a  great 
variety  of  attitudes  and  bringing  it  into  every  light  that 
he  could  command,  until  he  had  become  satisfied  that  he 
had  reached,  if  not  the  ultimate  limit  of  human  inves- 
tigation,— at  least  the  remotest  point  to  which  his  own 
faculties  could  carry  him.  His  mind  was  constituted 
with  far  more  than  a  common  degree  of  strength; — 
while  he  looked  at  subjects  critically  and  carefully,  he 
laid  hold  of  them  also  with  a  comprehensive  and  vigor- 
ous grasp,  and  sometimes  with  an  intensity  of  spirit 
that  was  nearly  allied  to  enthusiasm.  As  he  was  con- 
ducted to  the  result  of  his  inquiries  by  successive  and 
distinctly  marked  steps,  so  he  had  usually  no  difficulty 


OF    THE    REV.  JAMES    RICHARDS,  D.  D.  23 

in  making  what  was  clear  to  himself  equally  clear  to 
others.  But  for  nothing  was  he  more  distinguished  in 
the  character  of  his  mind  than  practical  common  sense, 
far  reaching  sagacity,  the  ability  to  form  a  right  estimate 
of  men  and  things,  and  to  discover  at  a  glance  the 
remoter  bearings  of  human  conduct.  He  was  not  de- 
ficient in  taste;  though  it  is  not  improbable  that  in  this 
respect  he  suffered  some  disadvantage  from  his  early 
embarrassments  resulting  in  the  premature  termination 
of  his  college  course.  His  WTitings  give  evidence  of 
little  imagination;  and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that 
this  faculty  had  less  prominence  in  his  intellectual  con- 
stitution than  any  other. 

Dr.  Richards  was  not  more  favoured  in  respect  to  his 
intellectual  than  his  moral  qualities.  He  had  not  only 
a  nice  perception  but  an  exquisite  sense  of  right  and 
wrong,  and  out  of  this  arose  an  integrity  so  strongly 
marked  that  malice  itself  scarcely  dared  to  assail  it. 
Notwithstanding  his  great  sagacity,  which  it  was  diffi- 
cult even  for  the  most  wary  to  surprise  or  circumvent, 
he  was  always  found  on  the  high  ground  of  fair  and 
honest  dealing;  and  though  he  was  almost  sure  to  de- 
tect the  arts  of  the  cunning  and  unscrupulous,  yet  no 
one  had  the  least  reason  to  fear  that  he  would,  under 
any  circumstances,  take  an  unworthy  advantage.  He 
was  condescending  in  smaller  matters,  and  would  cheer- 
fully yield  an  opinion  or  a  measure  which  he  deemed 
unirajiortant,  for  the  sake  of  preserving  harmony;  but 
in  a  matter  which  involved  principle  and  conscience, 
no  man  perhaps  w^as  ever  more  inflexible.  He  was  be- 
nevolent, generous,  magnanimous,  in  his  dispositions; 


24  ESSAY    ON    THE    CHARACTER 

he  was  alive  to  every  project  for  meliorating^  the  con- 
dition of  his  fellow  men;  he  never  manifested  a  spirit 
of  triumph  over  a  fallen  foe;  he  wept  over  the  infirmi- 
ties and  sins  as  well  as  the  miseries  of  his  fellow  crea- 
tures; and  he  rejoiced  exceedingly  in  every  thing  that 
foretold  the  reign  of  peace  and  truth  and  righteousness 
in  the  earth.  If  his  Christian  character  is  to  be  dis- 
tinctly considered,  then  it  must  be  said  that  it  embodied 
all  the  graces  of  the  gospel  in  unusual  purity  and 
beauty  and  power;  the  depth  of  his  humility,  the 
fervour  of  his  devotion,  the  strength  of  his  charity,  the 
heavenliness  of  his  temper,  and  the  consistency  of  his 
walk,  all  combined  to  impart  to  his  character  as  a  dis- 
ciple of  Christ  an  unwonted  attractiveness  and  eleva- 
tion. 

It  is  evident  from  the  preceding  remarks, — and  the 
fact  is  otherwise  well  attested, — that  there  must  have 
been  a  remarkable  symmetry  pervading  Dr.  Richards's 
entire  character:  the  physical,  the  intellectual,  the 
moral,  the  spiritual,  were  so  admirably  commingled, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  the  balance  between  the  different 
faculties  of  his  nature  was  well  nigh  perfect.  And  it 
admits  of  no  question  that  a  character  formed  after  such 
a  model  is  best  adapted  to  extensive  usefulness.  The 
world  are  indeed  accustomed  to  bestow  their  admiration 
more  upon  what  is  striking  and  eccentric;  they  prefer 
the  startling  and  brilliant  course  of  the  meteor,  to  the 
regular  and  powerful  shining  of  the  sun;  but  in  this  pre- 
ference they  give  little  evidence  of  wisdom.  If  the 
whole  history  of  the  church  could  be  brought  to  testify  in 
relation  to  this  matter,  it  would  be  found  that  those  who 


OF  THE  REV.  JAMEB  RICHARDS,  D.  D.  25 

have  lent  the  most  efficient  aid  in  promoting  the  cause  of 
Christ,  and  whose  memories  are  cherished  with  the 
highest  respect  and  gratitude  after  they  are  gone,  are  not 
usually  the  men  who  have  enjoyed  the  highest  reputation 
during  their  lives  foi  what  is  commonly  called  genius;  — 
on  the  contrary,  they  are  the  men  whose  intellectual 
and  moral  constitution  at  once  disposes  and  enables 
them  to  discharge  all  their  duties  with  fidelity  and 
alacrity; — men  of  sound  judgment  and  quick  sagacity 
and  tender  conscience  and  devout,  philanthropic  and 
magnanimous  feelings,  whose  course  is  as  noiseless,  yet 
as  steady,  as  the  march  of  the  sun  through  the  heavens. 
There  are  indeed  instances  in  which  eccentric,  very 
eccentric  men,  are  rendered  eminently  useful;  and  they 
are  enabled  to  meet  certain  exigencies  to  which,  with 
a  different  constitution,  they  would  be  utterly  inade- 
quate. But  these  cases  form  exceptions  from  the 
general  rule.  And  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  when- 
ever a  young  man  of  great  eccentricity  enters  the 
ministry,  there  is  danger,  and  unless  he  possesses  extra- 
ordinary piety, — imminent  danger,  that  as  much  of  evil 
as  of  good  will  hang  upon  his  footsteps.  He  may  indeed 
be  much  talked  of,  and  talked  of  even  with  admiration; 
and  yet  the  very  things  which  provoke  this  admiration, 
may  not  improbably  const hute  the  most  formidable 
clogs  upon  his  Christian  and  ministerial  usefulness.  Let 
it  always  be  remembered  that  eccentricity  supposes 
imperfection; — it  supposes  either  defect  or  excess  in 
some  part  of  our  nature.  In  the  character  of  the  Su- 
preme there  is  not  the  semblance  of  eccentricity;  nor 
is  there  any  thing  that  approaches  it  in  the  character 


26 


ESSAY  ON  THE    CHARACTER 


of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  it  was  exhibited  on  the 
earth.  They  who  come  nearest  to  the  standard  of 
perfect  excellence,  are  those  who  reach  the  highest 
point  of  improvement  in  respect  to  all  their  faculties. 

Dr.  Ricnards's  characteristics  as  a  preacher  were  just 
what  might  have  been  expected,  in  view  of  the 
peculiar  qualities  of  his  mind  and  heart.  His  discourses 
were  generally  written,  with  the  exception  of  the 
closing  part,  which  he  usually  left  to  be  supplied,  so  far 
at  least  as  the  language  was  concerned,  by  his  feelings 
at  the  moment.  They  were  characterized  by  great 
simplicity  and  perspicuity  of  style,  and  by  strict  logical 
accuracy  in  th-i  arrangement  of  the  different  parts,  so 
that  a  child  might  easily  follow  and  comprehend  him. 
The  doctrinal,  the  practical,  the  experimental,  were 
mingled  in  them  in  just  proportions;  so  that  it  was 
impossible  to  listen  to  them  attentively,  without  gaining 
more  enlarged  views  of  divine  truth,  and  finding  fresh 
inducements  to  the  discharge  of  duty.  No  subject 
seems  to  have  occupied  his  thoughts  more  habitually, 
or  to  have  contributed  more  to  fix  the  tone  of  his 
ministrations  than  the  character  and  claims  of  God; 
and  in  his  exhibition  of  these  he  is  believed  to  have  put 
forth  his  greatest  power  in  the  pulpit.  His  manner 
w^as  sober,  dignified,  earnest.  His  voice  was  com- 
manding and  his  utterance  rapid, — sometimes  so  rapid 
as  to  become  slightly  indistinct;  but  what  gave  to  his 
manner  its  greatest  attraction  was  the  fervour  of  his 
spirit  breathing  in  every  expression  and  glowing  in 
every  feature.  It  was  not  at  the  option  of  any  hearer  to 
believe  or  not  to   believe  that  his  utterances  in  the 


OF  THE  REV.  JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D.  21 

pulpit  were  from  the  very  depths  of  his  spirit:  the  im- 
pression that  this  was  so,  was  so  irresistible,  that  it  may 
reasonably  be  doubted  whether  it  was  ever  a  matter  of 
question  with  any  one  who  listened  to  him.  Even 
those  who  may  have  differed  widely  from  him  in  his 
religious  views,  were  still  constrained  to  feel  that  he 
was  giving  expression  to  his  own  deep  and  earnest 
convictions.  It  must  be  acknowledged  that  he  was  not 
in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  w^ord  an  eminently 
popular  preacher, — that  is,  a  preacher  whom  the  multi- 
tude would  run  after  in  blind  admiration;  but  they 
who  coveted  sound  scriptural  instruction,  and  they  w^ho 
were  anxious  to  be  directed  into  the  path  of  life,  and 
they  w^ho  could  sympathize  with  the  exercise  of  a  spirit 
glow^ing  with  love  to  God  and  man,  never  failed  to 
place  a  high  estimate  upon  his  ministrations.  And  the 
results  of  his  preaching  were  such  as  its  character  would 
lead  us  to  anticipate.  It  was  owned  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  as  an  effective  instrumentality  in  connection  with 
some  of  the  most  extensive  and  powerful  revivals'which 
have  been  enjoyed  in  the  American  church. 

If  it  be  conceded  that  in  some  respects  the  style  of 
preaching  has  been  improved  in  latter  years,  it  certainly 
admits  of  great  doubt  whether  in  other  respects  it  has 
not  proportionally  deteriorated.  The  desire  to  avoid 
the  appearance  of  formality  has  in  too  many  cases 
driven  out  all  method;  and  the  preacher,  in  order  to 
prevent  himself  from  being  anticipated  in  his  thoughts, 
leads  his  hearers  through  such  deep  mazes  that  when 
he  is  at  the  end  of  his  discourse,  they  know"  not  where 
they  have  been,  or  how  they  have  reached  the  point  to 


28  ESSAY  ON  THE    CHARACTER 

which  he  has  conducted  them.  And  then  there  are 
those  too  who  seem  to  do  homage  to  the  intellectual 
and  the  philosophical,  at  the  expense  of  the  evangelical 
and  the  spiritual;  who  preach  much  upon  the  beauty 
of  virtue,  but  little  upon  the  love  of  Christ;  whose 
discourses,  if  they  were  to  be  judged  as  essays,  would 
be  pronounced  s^dendid,  but  if  judged  as  sermons,  are 
miserably  jejune  and  poor.  It  were  well  if  all  the 
young  ministers  of  the  present  day  who  have  reformed 
themselves  into  this  mode  of  preaching,  would  be  con- 
tented to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Dr.  Richards.  They  are 
sacrificing  the  mighty  power  that  resides  in  their  office, 
when  legitimately  exercised,  to  a  dream  of  vain  ambi- 
tion. They  are  preparing  the  church  to  put  on  the 
garments  of  heaviness,  because  her  spiritual  energy 
and  vitality  are  gone.  They  are  making  themselves 
responsible  for  evil  which  is  visible  and  palpable  now, 
but  which  may  have  only  begun  to  operate  when  they 
are  called  to  their  account.  May  Heaven  deliver  us 
from  these  erratic  untoward  tendencies  that  are  disco- 
verable here  and  there  in  the  rising  ministry.  Let  it 
be  a  maxim  with  every  young  preacher  and  every 
student  in  theology,  that,  in  the  construction  of  his 
discourses,  however  original  he  may  be,  he  never  leads 
his  hearers  by  a  way  in  which  they  get  bewildered, — 
that  however  argumentative  he  may  be,  he  never 
substitutes  the  deductions  of  his  own  reason  for  the 
substantial  realities  of  God's  word. 

Few  men  have  been  more  eminently  qualified  than 
Dr.  Richards  for  the  successful  discharge  of  pastoral 
duties.     His  fine  social  qualities  gave  him  ready  access 


OF  THE  REV.  JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D.  29 

to  persons  of  all  classes;  his  excellent  judgment  enabled 
him  to  adapt  his  conversation  with  a  discreet  reference 
to  circumstances  and  characters;  his  devoted  piety  led 
him  in  all  his  intercourse  to  regard  chiefly  the  spiritual 
interests  of  all ;  his  unsuspected  generosity  and  sincerity 
secured  to  him  an  almost  unbounded  confidence;  and 
his  own  wakeful  sensibilities  and  sympathies  rendered 
him  most  welcome  as  well  as  most  useful  amidst  scenes 
of  calamity  and  sorrow.  Much  as  he  was  respected  for 
his  efforts  in  the  pulpit,  perhaps  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  he  was  yet  even  more  beloved  for  his  labours 
out  of  it;  and  it  is  confidently  believed  that  those  who 
have  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  his  ministry  embalm  in 
their  deepest  gratitude  the  memory  of  his  pastoral 
qualities. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  some  men  are  constituted 
with  qualifications  for  the  pastoral  oflSce,  which  no 
amount  of  efl^ort  could  secure  to  others;  and  hence  while 
some  have  wrought  with  the  greatest  advantage  in  the 
pulpit,  others  have  been  chiefly  useful  in  the  discharge 
of  the  more  private  duties  of  the  ministry.  The  great 
Edwards  is  said  to  have  had  little  to  do  with  his  con- 
gregation except  from  the  pulpit;  and  there  he  exhibited 
a  power  which  was  well  nigh  unrivalled;  whereas 
some  others  who  have  been  signally  blessed  in  turning 
souls  to  righteousness,  have  scarcely  been  heard  of  as 
preachers,  but  have  been  eminently  favoured  in  respect 
to  their  pastoral  qualifications.  No  doubt  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  ministry  consists  in  the  union  of  the  preacher 
and  the  pastor;  and  every  one  who  enters  the  sacred 
office  is  bound  to  exemplify  both  to  the  extent  of  hia 
4 


30 


ESSAY  ON    THE  CHARACTER 


ability^  and  though  it  is  too  much  to  say,  (for  experi- 
ence would  disprove  the  assertion)  that  the  two  may 
not  be  in  some  measure  separated  in  consistency  with 
usefulness  and  even  eminent  usefulness,  yet  we  are  not, 
in  any  ordinary  case  where  such  a  disjunction  exists,  to 
look  for  the  highest  results  of  the  ministry.  Because 
Jonathan  Edwards  is  said  not  to  have  been  a  pastor, 
let  no  young  minister  imagine  that  it  is  safe  for  him  to 
neglect  his  pastoral  duties  on  the  ground  of  being 
eminent  in  the  pulpit:  certainly  let  him  not  come  to 
this  conclusion  until  he  is  satisfied  that  he  has  Edwards's 
power  both  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the  closet.  It  must  be 
confessed  that  visiting  regularly  and  frequently  from 
house  to  house,  is,  by  no  means,  the  easiest  part  of  a 
minister's  duty;  but  it  is  vastly  important  not  only  for 
its  direct  but  indirect  influence, — not  only  for  the 
immediate  good  which  may  be  accomplished  by  this 
kind  of  intercourse,  in  administering  appropriate  in- 
struction and  counsel,  but  in  the  greater  good  will 
which  it  secures  to  the  minister  from  his  people  and  the 
more  earnest  attention  which  is  rendered,  on  account  of 
it,  to  his  public  ministrations. 

.  Notwithstanding  the  eminence  to  which  Dr.  Richards 
attained  in  the  discharge  of  the  ordinary  duties  of  the 
ministry,  it  was  probably  in  the  chair  of  a  Professor  of 
Theology,  that  he  rendered  the  most  important  service 
to  the  church  and  gathered  the  most  enduring  honors 
to  his  own  name.  He  was  in  all  respects  well  qualified, 
and  in  some  eminently  so,  for  this  important  station. 
He  was  familiar  with  the  ablest  theological  writers  of 
by-gone  days;  but  while  there  were  those  among  them 


OF  THE  REV.    JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D. 


31 


whom  he  regarded  with  great  veneration  and  to  whose 
general  views  of  Christian  doctrine  he  cordially  sub- 
scribed, yet  he  called  no  mere  man  master;  he  recog- 
nized no  authority  as  ultimate  but  the  authority  of 
God's  word.  He  studied  the  Bible  continually  and 
earnestly  in  the  languages  in  which  it  was  written,  as 
God's  word;  divesting  himself,  so  far  as  possible,  of 
the  prejudice  of  education  and  of  every  thing  like 
superstitious  reverence  for  uninspired  authority ;  com- 
paring scripture  with  scripture,  and  never  intermitting 
his  enquiries,  till  he  had  become  satisfied  in  respect  to 
the  divine  testimony.  Here  he  rested  as  upon  a  rock; 
ready  always  to  defend  his  own  convictions  with  calm- 
ness, and  yet  with  power.  His  taste  and  ability  for 
philosophical  investigation  in  connection  with  the 
quickness  and  clearness  of  his  perceptions  on  every 
subject,  and  a  naturally  fervid  spirit  that  could  easily 
kindle  into  a  generous  enthusiasm,  gave  him  a  great 
advantage  in  communicating  instruction;  and  though 
he  held  his  students  in  earnest  and  profound  thought, 
yet  they  always  felt  that  he  was  leading  them  in  a 
broad  and  luminous  path.  As  there  was  no  tendency 
in  his  mind,  so  neither  was  there  in  his  system,  to  ex- 
tremes. He  maintained  with  equal  zeal  the  authority 
of  God's  law  on  the  one  hand  and  the  fullness  and  free- 
ness  of  redemption  on  the  other; — the  obligation  of  the 
sinner  to  obey  God's  commandments,  his  utter  inexcu- 
sableness  for  not  obeying  them,  and  his  entire  depend- 
ance  for  salvation  on  the  sovereign  grace  of  God  in 
Christ.  He  regarded  philosophy  as  a  handmaid  and 
only  a  handmaid  to  Christianity;  and  he  took  care  in 


32  ESSA.Y  ON    THE  CHARACTER 

showing  its  bearings  on  Christian  doctrines,  that  it  did 
not  mar  their  consistency,  or  neutralize  their  power  or 
mould-them  into  another  gospel.  His  views  of  divine 
truth  were  chiefly  of  the  old  New  England  orthodox 
school;  though  he  regarded  the  differences  w^hich 
existed  in  the  Presbyterian  church  in  the  earlier  part  of 
his  ministry  as  in  no  wise  interfering  with  substantial 
unity  of  sentiment. 

In  his  private  intercourse  with  his  students  he  w^as 
always  condescending  and  amiable;  ready  to  answ^er 
their  inquiries,  to  counsel  them  in  difficulty,  and  espe- 
cially to  do  every  thing  in  his  power  in  aid  of  their 
spiritual  progress.  The  consequence  was  that  they 
regarded  him  with  a  truly  filial  feeling;  and  if  there 
were  any  in  respect  to  whom  it  was  otherwise,  the  fact 
only  needed  to  be  known,  to  fix  them  in  no  very  en- 
viable place  in  public  estimation. 

Nor  ought  it  to  be  omitted,  in  this  connection,  that 
Dr.  Richards  was  an  uncommonly  skilful,  even  an 
eminent  financier.  No  doubt  this  was  to  be  referred 
partly  to  his  great  natural  sagacity,  and  partly  to  the 
necessity  of  the  most  rigid  economy  induced  by  his 
early  straitened  circumstances.  While  he  was  as  far 
as  possible  from  any  thing  like  meanness, — so  far  that 
he  was  generous  and  even  noble  in  his  dispositions, — 
he  took  care  that  nothing  in  his  own  pecuniary  concerns 
was  left  at  loose  ends;  and  the  same  spirit  of  exact 
calculation  he  exhibited  in  reference  to  the  concerns  of 
others,  and  especially  of  the  institution  with  which  he 
was  connected.  He  became  connected  with  it  while  it 
was  yet  in  its  infancy;  and  he  identified  himself  with 


OF  THE  REV.  JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D.  33 

it  in  all  its  earlier  and  later  pecuniary  struggles;  and 
but  for  his  great  wisdom  and  energy  and  perseverance, 
it  seems  scarcely  possible  that  even  its  existence  should 
have  been  continued.  He  was  often  abroad  among  the 
churches  soliciting  the  means  of  relieving  the  seminary 
from  its  embarrassments,  and  giving  increased  efficiency 
to  its  operations;  and  the  high  veneration  with  which 
his  character  was  every  where  regarded,  rendered  his  ap- 
plications frequently  successful,  where  those  of  perhaps 
any  other  man  would  have  failed.  And  he  managed  the 
funds  as  well  as  collected  them;  he  knew  how  to  husband 
every  thing  to  the  best  advantage,  and  the  most  watchful 
and  jealous  friends  of  the  seminary  had  full  confidence 
that  every  thing  in  respect  to  financial  matters  was  mov- 
ing forward  securely,  while  it  was  under  his  direction. 
Those  who  would  form  a  suitable  estimate  of  the 
amount  of  service  w'hich  he  rendered  to  that  institution, 
must  look  much  beyond  the  faithful  discharge  of  his 
duties  as  a  theological  professor:  they  must  remember 
that  for  several  years  the  institution  well  nigh  had  its 
being  in  his  unremitted  efforts  often  made  under  the 
pressure  of  great  bodily  infirmity,  to  meet  its  necessary 
annual  expenses. 

It  is  obvious  to  the  least  reflection  that  nothing  in- 
volves more  immediately  the  interests  of  the  church, 
than  the  character  of  those  to  whom  is  committed  the 
training  of  her  ministry.  To  say  nothing  here  of  the 
paramount  importance  of  their  holding  the  truth  in  its 
purity  and  having  all  the  requisite  intellectual  furni- 
ture for  its  illustration  and  defence, — the  fact  that  they 
lack  common  prudence,  or  eminent  piety,  ox  that  they 
4*  - 


34  ESSAY    ON   THE    CHARACTER 

are  prone  to  speculate  where  inspiration  hath  inter- 
posed its  authoritative  mandate,  is  of  itself  enough 
utterly  to  disqualify  them  for  such  a  station.  Let  a 
spirit  of  the  most  liberal  inquiry  be  encouraged,  only 
let  not  human  reason  intrude  into  the  province  of  faith. 
Let  the  faculties  be  tasked  to  the  utmost,  only  let  due 
care  be  taken  that  they  operate  in  the  right  direction. 
If  a  theological  professor,  from  taste  or  habit  or  any 
other  cause,  suffers  himself  to  become  a  mere  metaphy- 
sical dreamer  before  his  class,  rather  than  a  sober  ex- 
pounder of  the  divine  verities,  it  may  confidently  be 
expected  that  many  at  least  who  listen  to  him  will  not 
only  imbibe  the  same  spirit,  but  will  carry  it  with  them 
to  mar  and  neutralize  their  ministrations  in  subsequent 
life. 

Great  importance  is  moreover  to  be  attached  to  the 
manners,  the  general  bearing  in  society,  of  young  men 
who  enter  the  ministiy;  and  in  this  respect  also,  it  is 
of  great  moment  that  they  have  good  models  in  their 
instructors.  However  we  may  regret  that  there  are 
many  who  can  not  discern  substantial  merit  through  so 
thin  a  veil  as  ungraceful  or  unpolished  manners,  the 
fact  admits  of  no  question;  and  there  are  at  this  mo- 
ment not  a  few  clergymen  in  our  own  country  who 
occupy  places  of  less  importance  than  they  might  have 
done,  and  probably  would  have  done,  if  they  had  been 
more  at  home  in  cultivated  society.  Dr.  Richards, 
though  he  enjoyed  few  advantages  in  early  life  for  the 
cultivation  of  his  manners,  was  nevertheless  a  fine  ex- 
ample of  a  Christian  gentleman;  was  always  attentive 
to  tlie  courtesies  of  life,  and  never  neglected  any  of  the 


OF  THE  REV.  JAMES  RICHARDS,   D.  D.  35 

thousand  nameless  things  fitted  to  minister  to  the  ease 
and  comfort  of  those  around  him.  It  was  worth  a 
great  deal  to  his  pupils  to  live  under  such  an  influence. 
Other  pupils  beside  his  know  the  value  of  such  an 
example  from  having  it  before  them;  and  it  were  well 
that  all  who  enjoy  such  an  advantage  should  remember 
that  the  improvement  or  the  neglect  of  it  will  probably 
have  much  to  do  in  deciding  the  measure  of  their  use- 
fulness. 

Dr.  Richards's  general  influence  in  the  church,  as 
well  while  he  had  a  pastoral  charge  as  while  he  was  a 
theological  professor,  was  equally  benign,  efficient  and 
extensive.  His  great  wisdom  and  integrity  were  every 
where  acknowledged,  and  every  where  confided  in. 
He  was  a  most  active  and  useful  member  of  ecclesias- 
tical judicatories;  and  in  cases  of  difficulty  especially, 
great  reliance  was  placed  on  his  judgment  and  counsel. 
He  was  chosen  moderator  of  the  General  Assembly  at 
the  age  of  thirty -seven;  an  honour  rarely  conferred  upon 
an  individual  so  young;  but  he  discharged  the  duties 
of  the  office  with  great  propriety,  dignity  and  accept- 
ance. He  was  one  of  the  master  spirits  in  the  great 
benevolent  movements  of  the  day, — not  only  in  sus- 
taining, but  originating  them;  and  when  he  was  taken 
away  from  this  department  of  Christian  eflfort,  it  seemed 
as  if  an  armour-bearer  had  failed.  In  short,  such  was 
his  reputation  as  an  eminently  sagacious  and  honest 
man,  and  a  devoted  Christian,  that  there  was  scarcely 
any  important  project  having  a  bearing  on  the  interests 
of  the  chuich,  formed  within  the  range  of  his  influ- 
ence, but  that  his  wisdom  in  counsel  or  his  energy  in 


36  ESSAY   ON   THE    CHARACTER 

action,  was  put  in  requisition  for  the  accomplishment 
of  it. 

During  the  latter  years  of  Dr.  Richards's  life  he  was 
tried  in  common  with  many  other  good  men,  by  the 
grievous  disturbances  that  existed  in  the  Presbyterian 
church.  He  was  an  attentive  and  deeply  interested 
observer  of  the  inroads  of  that  fanatical  spirit  which 
about  the  year  1S27  or  '28,  began  its  desolating  ope- 
rations in  western  New  York.  He  was  ready  to 
admit  that,  as  in  days  of  old,  there  might  be  some  com- 
mingling of  good  with  the  evil;  but  he  entertained  not 
a  doubt  that  it  was  chiefly  a  ministration  of  fanaticism 
and  error;  and  with  this  conviction,  he  set  his  face 
against  it  as  a  flint.  He  resisted  at  the  expense  of 
being  denounced  as  an  enemy  of  revivals;  at  the  ex- 
pense even  of  being  most  offensively,  not  to  say 
calumniously,  prayed  for  by  some  of  his  own  students; 
for  with  all  the  precaution  that  he  could  use,  the  storm 
swept  through  the  seminary;  and  while  some  were 
swept  away,  others  'prudently  bent  to  the  blast,  and 
others  still  stood  up  with  their  venerable  professor  in 
the  attitude  of  stern  and  dignified  resistance.  Suffice 
it  to  say  that  the  views  which  he  maintained  were  the 
same  in  which  the  Christian  community  now  generally 
repose;  to  which  it  may  be  added  many  have  long 
since  returned,  who,  for  a  season,  yielded  to  the  popu- 
lar impulse,  and  both  in  theory  and  in  practice  set  at 
naught  the  first  principles  of  evangelical  order. 

But  notwithstanding  Dr.  Richards's  vigorous  and 
hearty  opposition  to  the  system  of  new  measures  and 
to  the  attempted  innovations  upon   the  faith  of  the 


OF  THE  REV.  JAMES  RICHARDS,  D.  D.  37 

Presbyterian  church,  he  was  not  prepared  for  the  ulti- 
mate remedy  which  the  General  Assembly  adopted  for 
curing  these  disorders — the  excision  of  the  three  west- 
ern Synods.  He  believed  that  to  have  been  both 
unconstitutional  and  unwise;  but  it  impaired  not  his 
confidence  or  his  affection  for  the  great  and  good  men 
who  differed  with  him,  and  he  rejoiced  in  the  belief 
that  at  no  distant  day,  the  two  branches  of  the  church 
would  again  be  united  in  greater  purity  and  love. 
That  grateful  anticipation  seems  now  to  be  cherished 
by  a  constantly  increasing  number;  and  before  this 
generation  shall  have  passed  away,  it  is  perhaps  safe 
to  predict  that  it  will  be  fully  realized. 

Dr.  Richards  was  eminently  favoured  in  his  life,  and 
he  w^as  not  less  favoured  in  his  death.  His  latter  years 
were  years  of  great  feebleness;  but  he  was  still,  with 
slight  interruptions,  able  to  discharge  his  duties  as  a 
professor,  and  not  unfrequently  to  preach  in  the  town 
or  the  neighborhood.  The  waning  of  his  life  was  as 
gradual  and  as  glorious  as  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 
He  had  some  afHictions  in  his  old  age,  but  the  darkest 
clouds  that  gathered  over  him  were  fringed  with  bright 
hues  from  the  sun  of  righteousness.  Whether  in 
sorrow  or  in  joy  he  sustained  himself  with  the  dignity 
of  a  patriarch.  He  was  blessed  in  his  family;  blessed 
in  the  circle  of  his  friends;  blessed  in  all  his  relations; 
and  when  he  was  gathered  into  the  community  of  the 
glorified,  there  was  deep  mourning  on  Earth,  corres- 
ponding no  doubt  to  the  joyful  welcome  that  he  met  in 
Heaven. 

Shortly  after  his  death  a  volume  of  his  theological 


38  ESSAY   ON    THE    CHARACTER 

lectures  was  published,  in  connection  with  the  sketch  of 
his  life  already  referred  to,  which  even  those  who  may 
not  fully  accord  with  his  views,  will  acknowledge,  are 
highly  creditable  to  him  as  a  judicious,  acute  and  able 
theologian.  Many  of  his  old  friends,  especially  those 
who  were  accustomed  long  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  his 
ministry,  felt  that  they  should  more  easily  recognize 
him  in  his  sermons  which  were  addressed  to  themselves 
than  in  his  lectures  which  were  designed  for  his  stu- 
dents; and  it  is  in  obedience  to  such  a  wish  that  thei 
selection  contained  in  the  present  volume  is  given  to 
the  public.  It  is  not  claimed  for  them  that  they  are 
either  brilliant  or  elaborate  productions.  They  w^ere 
written  in  the  ordinary  course  of  weekly  preparation  for 
the  sabbath,  without  the  least  expectation  on  the  part 
of  the  author  that  they  would  ever  see  the  light;  and 
they  are  probably  little,  if  any,  superior  to  his  ordinary 
discourses.  It  will  be  the  reader's  fault,  however,  if 
they  do  not  serve  to  render  his  views  of  divine  truth 
more  clear,  to  quicken  and  elevate  his  religious  sensi- 
bilities, and  to  make  him  more  conscientious  and  earnest 
in  the  various  duties  of  the  Christian  life.  I  have 
cheerfully  complied  with  the  request  of  his  family  to 
introduce  the  work  with  this  prefatory  notice  of  his 
character,  as  it  has  given  me  an  unexpected  opportunity 
of  bearing  testimony  to  his  worth,  and  rearing  a  slight 
monument  to  his  honoured  and  cherished  memory. 


SERMONS. 


SERMON  I. 

GOD'S  UNIVERSAL   PRESENCE. 

PSALMS  CXXXIX;  7,  8,  9,  10. 
"  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit  ?  or  whither  shall  I  fee  from 
thy  presence'^  If  I  ascend  up  into  Heaven,  thou  aii  there;  if  I 
make  my  bed  in  Hell,  behold  thou  art  there;  if  I  take  the  ivings 
of  the  mornijig  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  paHs  of  the  sea,  even 
there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me,  and  thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me." 

Had  we  no  other  proof  of  the  inspiration  of  the 
scriptures,  the  very  description  which  they  give  of  God, 
w^ould  go  far  in  supporting  this  claim.  In  no  other 
writings  can  we  find  such  exalted  sentiments,  which 
never  clash  with  each  other,  and  which  never  verge  in 
the  slightest  degree,  to  any  thing  inconsistent  with  the 
most  absolute  perfection.  When  they  speak  of  his 
moral  character,  it  is  with  a  dignity  and  purity  alto- 
gether unrivalled.  When  they  describe  his  natural 
attributes, — his  eternity,  his  immensity,  his  power,  there 
is  a  sublimity  of  thought  and  a  force  of  expression 
wholly  peculiar  to  themselves.  W^hence  can  this  pe- 
culiarity arise?  Were  not  the  poets  and  orators  of 
heathen  antiquity  men  of  transcendent  genius,  as  well 


40  god's  universal  presence. 

as  of  highly  cultivated  powers?  Could  not  Homer  and 
Virgil,  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  rise  to  the  lofty  con- 
ceptions of  a  Moses,  David  or  Isaiah?  The  truth  is, 
the  writers  of  the  scriptures,  were  much  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  glorious  majesty  of  Heaven  and 
Earth,  than  any  of  the  ancient  heathen;  and  therefore 
could  speak  of  him  in  a  manner  more  worthy  of  his 
exalted  character.  They  had  more  than  the  light  of 
human  reason,  or  the  effulgence  of  the  loftiest  genius 
to  guide  them.  They  were  holy  men  of  God,  who 
spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Their 
powers  were  elevated  and  enlarged,  by  a  special,  divine 
influence;  and  hence  their  conceptions  are  marked  with 
a  grandeur  and  simplicity,  which  demonstrate  their 
heavenly  origin. 

The  passage  just  read  in  your  hearing,  and  indeed 
the  entire  psalm  from  which  it  is  taken,  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  striking  illustration  of  this  remark.  In 
vain  will  you  search  the  celebrated  writings  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  to  find  any  thing  which  can  equal  it  in  sub- 
limity. "  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit?  or  whither 
shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence?  If  I  ascend  into 
Heaven  thou  art  there;  ifl  make  make  my  bed  in  Hell — 
behold  thou  art  there;  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  even 
there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me,  and  thy  right  hand  shall 
hold  me." 

The  Psalmist  here  professes  his  belief  in  the  univer- 
sal presence  of  the  Deity;  and  he  does  it  in  a  manner 
which  shows  that  his  mind  is  completely  overwhelmed 
with  the  subject.     He  not  only  felt  that  he  was  sur- 


god's  unr'ersal  presence.  41 

rounded  with  God — where  he  was,  but  that  it  was 
utterly  impossible  to  go  from  his  Spirit,  or  flee  from  his 
presence,  because  that  Spirit,  that  presence,  w^as  as 
illimitable  as  the  universe, — as  boundless  as  immensity. 
"If  I  ascend  into  Heaven,  thou  art  there;  if  I  make 
my  bed  in  Hell," — plunging  into  those  dark  and  un- 
fathomed  mansions  of  the  dead,  w^here  imagination 
loses  itself  in  the  obscure  abyss — "  behold  thou  art 
there;  if  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell 
in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea," — if,  w^ith  the  swift- 
ness of  the  shooting  sunbeam,  I  transport  myself  to  the 
utmost  verge  of  the  western  ocean — •'•'  even  there  shall 
thy  hand  lead  me,  and  thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me." 
God's  Spirit,  he  perceives,  must  necessarily  be  with  him 
to  sustain  him  in  his  flight,  and  in  whatever  corner  of 
the  universe  he  should  light,  still  he  would  be  sur- 
rounded with  God,  w^hose  almighty  agency  would  be 
employed  in  upholding  his  being,  with  all  his  varied 
powers.  And  with  no  less  certainty,  he  perceives  the 
impossibility  of  escaping  the  notice  of  God's  eye.  "  If 
[  say  surely  the  darkness  shall  cover  me, — even  the 
night  shall  be  light  about  me;  yea  the  darkness  hideth 
not  from  thee;  but  the  night  shineth  as  the  day: — the 
darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike  to  thee." 

The  scriptures  hold  but  one  language  on  the  subject 
of  God's  presence.  They  uniformly  describe  him  as 
filling  immensity.  Excluding  all  inferior  and  subordi- 
nate deities,  they  represent  him  as  the  Creator,  the  Pre- 
server, and  Disposer  of  all  things; — as  being  in  the 
Heavens  above,  and  in  the  earth  beneath,  and  as  doing 
his  pleasure  in  all  places  of  his  dominion;  and  that, 
5 


42  god's  universal  presence. 

because  he  is  necessarily  over  all,  in  all,  and  through 
all.  Wherever  his  works  are,  there  they  describe  him 
to  be,  in  all  the  plenitude  of  his  wisdom  and  his 
power.  It  is  in  consequence  of  his  universal  presence 
and  agency  that  God  himself  puts  these  solemn  ques- 
tions— "  Who  is  he  that  saith  and  it  cometh  to  pass, 
and  the  Lord  commandeth  it  not?  Is  there  evil  in  the 
city,  and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it?  Behold  I  create 
light  and  I  create  darkness.  I,  the  Lord,  do  all  these 
things."  And  again,  "  Can  any  hide  himself  in  secret 
places,  that  I  shall  not  see  him,  saith  the  Lord:  do  not 
I  fill  Heaven  and  Earth,  saith  the  Lord. 

But  how  is  God  present  in  all  his  works?  Is  he  so 
by  his  influence  and  by  his  agents  merely?  or  is  he  so 
by  his  very  essence.  He  is  so  by  his  essence,  as  is 
clearly  implied  in  our  text,  and  in  various  other  passages 
of  scripture — "  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit? — 
or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence?  It  is  God 
himself,  and  not  merely  his  influence  or  his  agents, 
which  is  here  represented  as  filling  the  universe.  How 
indeed  can  it  be  otherwise,  if  it  is  as  St.  Paul  declares 
in  his  address  to  the  Athenians — "  That  in  him,  we  live 
and  move,  and  have  our  being.'' 

But  the  Bible  goes  a  step  further,  and  asserts  the 
being  of  God  to  be  absolutely  illimitable  and  im- 
measurable,— above  and  beyond  all  his  works.  "  Be- 
hold," says  Solomon,  "  the  Heaven  of  Heavens  can  not 
contain  thee,  how  much  less  this  house  that  I  have 
built."  It  is  plain,  that  he  speaks  of  God's  being, — 
not  of  his  providential  influence,  or  his  agency.  But 
if  God  not  only  fills  the  Heaven  of  Heavens — (and 


43 

beyond  these  creation  does  not  extend,)  I  say,  if  God 
not  only  fills  the  Heaven  of  Heavens,  but  is  above 
and  beyond  them,  as  he  certainly  must  be,  if  they 
cannot  contain  him — then  he  is  where  his  works  are 
not:  and  if  he  is  where  his  works  are  not,  can  we  set 
bounds  to  his  essence,  or  with  any  color  of  reason 
suppose  such  bounds  to  exist? 

That  God's  being  is  absolutely  boundless,  not  only 
pervading  all  things,  but  extending  indefinitely  beyond 
them,  is  a  doctrine,  not  of  revelation  alone,  but  of  reason 
also.  That  God  is  omnipresent,  by  which  is  commonly 
understood  his  presence  wuth  all  his  works,  appears 
obviously  to  be  a  dictate  of  reason.  If  no  cause  can 
act,  where  it  is  not,  (and  that  it  cannot,  by  any  direct 
and  positive  agency,  is  an  axiom  generally  admitted,) 
then  wherever  God  operates,  there  must  God  be;  his 
agency  must  be  regarded  as  conclusive  evidence  of  his 
presence. 

It  is  utterly  inconceivable  that  God  should  create  a 
being  where  he  himself  is  not;  and  it  is  alike  incon- 
ceivable that  he  should  uphold,  or  preserve  a  being 
that  he  has  created,  w^ithout  being  present  in  this  opera- 
tion. But  perhaps  he  does  not  uphold  the  creatures 
which  he  has  made: — perhaps,  having  given  them  an 
existence,  they  have  powder  to  preserve  themselves  in 
being,  independent  of  his  agency  or  care!  This  can 
never  be  said  by  a  believer  in  revelation;  since  that 
testifies  not  only  that  God  is  the  Maker  of  all  things, 
but  that  by  him,  all  things  consist:  nor  can  it  be  said 
by  him  who  rejects  revelation,  without  contradicting 
the  current  sense  of  mankind,   who   have   always  ac- 


44 

knowledged  the  same  power  requisite  to  preserve  as  to 
create.  What  indeed  is  preservation,  but  the  continued 
effect  of  that  almighty  agency  which  gave  to  the  dif- 
ferent orders  of  being  their  existence  and  their  power? 
Second  causes,  \ve  know^,  are  concerned  in  this  effect; 
but  what  are  second  causes,  and  what  their  influence, 
separate  from  the  energetic  wdll  of  the  great  First 
Cause?  It  is  as  irrational  as  it  is  unscriptural  to  sup- 
pose that  any  thing  exists,  or  continues  to  exist,  but 
through  his  almighty  agency  directed  to  this  end. 
No  man  is  so  blind  as  not  to  see  a  power  at  work  in 
the  vast  movements  of  nature; — a  power  which  operates 
with  design,  and  with  directing  and  controlling  efficacy 
through  all  the  multiplied  forms  of  existence,  in  the 
natural  and  moral  world.  What  is  this  powder?  It 
certainly  is  not  chance,  (which  by  the  way  is  no 
power)  for  then  it  would  not  be  so  regular,  and  specific 
in  its  operations.  Is  it  nature,  or  the  laws  of  nature? 
What  is  nature,  or  its  law^s,  but  the  regular  operation 
of  an  infinitely  wise  and  powerful  Being,  who,  as  he 
gave  existence  to  creatures,  does  not  cease  to  preserve 
and  direct  them?  His  powerful  will  alone  constitutes 
the  whole  energy  of  nature.  Must  he  not  be  present 
then  in  all  places  of  his  dominion?  And  must  not  the 
mere  fact  of  his  working  prove  him  to  be  wherever 
his  works  are? 

But  it  is  not  his  omnipresence  only,  or  his  presence 
with  his  works,  that  we  are  endeavoring  to  establish, 
but  his  absolute  immensity.  We  have  asserted  it  as  the 
doctrine  of  the  Bible,  that  God  exists  above  and  be- 
yond his  works;  and  that  there  is  no  imaginable  space 


god's  universal  presence.  45 

where  he  is  not.     And  will  not  the  deductions  of  reason 
lead  us  to  the  same  result?     God,  I  take  it  to  be  certain, 
is   somewhere: — for  I  believe    it   impossible   by    any 
species  of  abstraction,  to  form  the  idea  of  existence, 
without  place,  any  more  than  the  idea    of  existence 
without  time.     But  if  God  exists  somewhere,  what  is 
there  to  limit  his  existence  to  any  supposed  region? 
Why   should  he    not    inhabit    immensity    as   well    as 
eternity?     If  his  existence  be  limited,  it  cannot  be  from 
any  thing  without;  for    as  he  is  independent  and  un- 
derived,  he  must,  necessarily  be  before  all  other  beings; 
and  the   very  same  that  he  would  have  been  had  they 
never  existed.     Their  existence,  therefore,  can  have  no 
effect  in  limiting  or  modifying  his.     Can  his  existence 
then  be  limited  from   any  thing  within?      To  what 
properties    of   his  nature  shall  we  refer  to   authorize 
such  a  conclusion?     Certainly  not  to  his  self-existence; 
for  that  would  lead  us  to  say  that  the  same  reason  why 
he  exists  in  any  place,  must  be  a  reason  for  his  existing 
in  every  place;  just  as  the  ground  of  his  existence  at 
any  moment,  must  be  a  ground  of  his  having  existed 
through  all  past  duration,  and  will  be  a  ground  of  his 
existing   forever.     We  can  easily  see  that  he  exists 
always,  for  the  same  reason  that  he  exists  at  all;  and 
by  the  same   mode  of  reasoning,  we  can  see  that  he 
must  exist  every  where,  for  the  same  reason  that  he 
exists  any  where.     I  know  that  finite  beings  can  have 
no  adequate,  and  I  may  say  positive  idea  of  immensity. 
-The  very  term  is  negative,    and  signifies  space  without 
limits,  or  space  to  which  all  limit  is  denied.     At  the 
same  time,  it  is  true,  that  we  cannot  divest  ourselves  of 
5* 


46  god's  universal  presence. 

the  idea  of  immensity;  nor  can  we  conceive  it  possible 
that  God  should  not  fill  immensity,  without  supposing 
an  abridgment  of  his  power. 

Conceive  the  created  universe  of  whatever  extent 
you  will,  still  the  imagination  comes  to  its  limit. 
Multiply  creation  a  thousand  fold,  and  again  the  mind 
flies  to  its  utmost  verge  and  fancies  a  void  still  beyond. 
Is  it  reasonable  to  say  that  God  does  not  exist  without 
or  beyond  these  limits?  Or,  vrhich  is  the  same  thing, 
that  the  creation,  finite  as  it  must  be,  is  the  boundary 
of  his  being  ?  Might  we  not  rather  say,  in  the  para- 
doxical language  of  one  of  the  ancients,  that  God  is  a 
circle,  whose  centre  is  every  where,  and  whose  circum- 
ference is  no  where  ?  Or  in  plain  terms,  that  his  exist- 
ence is  boundless?  For  if  this  be  not  the  case,  and 
his  existence  is  confined  to  his  works,  what  must  he 
have  been  before  those  works  existed  ?  And  how  can 
he  now  extend  those  works?  Can  he  operate  where 
he  does  not  exist?  Or  does  the  nature  and  extent  of  his 
being  depend  upon  his  own  volition?  To  suppose  that 
there  are  any  bounds  to  the  divine  existence,  (I  speak 
in  relation  to  space) — is.  in  our  apprehension,  not  only 
to  set  limits  to  his  power,  but  to  imply  that  he  may 
change  place, — a  thing  as  incompatible  w^ith  our  ideas 
of  his  self-existence  and  infinitude,  as  it  is  with  his 
immutability. 

But  waiving  all  abstract  speculation,  how  shall  we 
conceive  of  the  divine  immensity?  "  We  are  tied 
down,"  says  one,  "  to  a  little  spot,  to  a  mere  point. 
But  from  this  point  let  us  extend  our  imaginations  to 
the  distant  mountains,  and  God  is  there,  as  well  as  here. 


GOD^S  UNrV'ERSAL  PRESENCE.  47 

From  thence  let  us  extend  our  thoughts  over  all  lands, 
over  all  seas.  Behold  God  is  there  likewise:  and  from 
thence  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  earth,  beyond  the 
moon,  beyond  the  sun,  beyond  the  fixed  stars,  beyond 
all  the  worlds,  and  all  the  matter  in  the  universe,  still 
God  is  there.  Nor  have  you  come,  nor  can  you  come, 
where  God  is  not.  He  is  above  all  height,  below^  all 
depth,  beyond  all  measure,  and  where  there  is  nothing 
else,  still  there  is  God."  He  pervades  the  universe 
intimately  and  perfectly;  and  still  the  universe  neither 
bounds  him,  nor  becomes  a  part  of  him.  There  is  no 
confusion  of  his  nature,  with  that  of  his  creatures. 
"  He  is  all  in  all,  but  above  all,  and  distinct  from  all. 
He  penetrates  the  darkest  recesses;  but  is  yet  purer 
than  the  ether,  clearer  than  the  light."  He  is  indivisi- 
ble and  impassible, — pervading  all  his  works,  sustain- 
ing and  acting  upon  them,  w^hile  nothing  in  the  universe 
sustains  or  acts  upon  him. 

In  the  review  of  this  subject,  I  remark, 
1.  That  from  the  divine  immensity,  we  may  infer  the 
various  attributes  of  God; — his  spirituality,  his  omnipo- 
tence, his  immutability,  his  omniscience  and  eternity,  and 
perhaps  too  his  holiness  or  moral  rectitude.  We  have 
not  time  to  discuss  this  inference;  but  it  is  an  axiom 
in  theology,  that  where  there  is  one  divine  attribute, 
there  are  all  the  rest;  and  it  is  inconceivable,  that  an 
infinite  attribute  should  belong  to  any  other  than  an 
infinite  subject;  and  where  the  subject  is  infinite,  it 
draws  after  it  considerations  which  show  that  all  its 
attributes  are  of  the  same  illimitable  character.  But 
without  the  aid  of  this  argument,  you  can  easily  per- 


48  god's  universal  presence. 

ceive  that  he  who  has  immensity,  can  not  be  material, 
but  must  be  spiritual;  for,  otherwise,  he  could  not 
have  called  the  material  world  into  being;  as  two 
material  substances  can  never  exist  in  the  same  place 
at  the  same  time.  He  who  has  immensity  also,  who 
exists  before  all,  and  above  all,  must  be  both  almighty 
and  eternah  Having  nothing  to  limit  his  existence  in 
point  of  space,  he  can  have  nothing  to  limit  it  in  point 
of  time;  and  having  given  existence  to  all,  he  must  of 
course,  have  the  control  of  all.  For  like  reasons,  he 
must  know  all  things.  He  is  every  where  to  see,  and 
consequently  nothing  can  escape  his  notice.  All  that 
has  existed  was  the  result  of  his  purpose,  and  all  that 
shall  exist,  comes  alike  w^ithin  the  range  of  his  coun- 
sels. It  is  impossible,  therefore,  that  the  past  and  the 
future  should  not  be  as  open  and  naked  to  him  as  the 
present.  And  to  a  being  of  such  knowledge,  and  such 
power,  what  conceivable  motive  can  there  be  to  depart 
from  the  dictates  of  his  own  all-searching  understand- 
ing? He  knows  what  is  right,  and  why  should  he  not 
act  according  to  his  knowledge?  It  is  obvious  that 
none  of  the  motives  which  induce  his  creatures  to 
swerve  from  the  path  of  rectitude,  can  have  any  place 
with  him.  Even  his  natural  perfections,  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  exclude  them.  All  this  might  be 
clearly  shown,  could  we  descend  to  detail.  But  I  con- 
sider it  more  important  to  remark, 

2.  That  the  divine  immensity  presents  in  a  strong 
point  of  light,  the  miserable  and  degraded  condition 
of  those  who  worship  a  local  deity.  Thus  it  w^as 
with  all  the  ancient  idolaters— and  thus  it  is  with  four- 


49 

sixths  of  the  human  race  still.  Instead  of  lifting  up 
their  eyes  to  a  being  who  fills  the  universe  with  his 
presence,  and  whom  the  universe  itself  can  not  contain, 
they  pay  their  devotions  to  gods  as  they  suppose  of 
certain  hills  or  valleys,  temples  or  streams.  They 
know  nothing  of  the  greatness  of  the  true  God,  nor  of 
the  unspeakable  glories  which  invest  his  sacred  throne. 
How^  much  are  they  to  be  pitied  by  those  on  whom  the 
true  light  shines!  And  how  ready  should  we  be  to 
convey  to  them  the  knowledge  of  their  infinite  and 
adorable  Creator  and  Redeemer!  This  is  a  charity 
to  which  the  Christian  world  have  at  length  awoke; 
and  it  is  a  charity  in  which  every  friend  of  the  living 
God  and  of  the  human  family  will  feel  it  a  privilege 
to  embark.  Do  you  know^  that  God  fills  immensity; 
that  he  is  almighty  and  eternal;  that  he  is  infinitely 
wise  and  infinitely  good;  that  he  is  your  Creator  and 
Lawgiver,  your  Redeemer  and  Judge;  and  will  you 
not  impart  this  know^ledge  to  others,  especially  when 
he  himself  tells  you  that  they  who  are  ignorant  of  him 
shall  perish  ?     But, 

3.  From  the  divine  immensity  w^e  may  learn  a  les- 
son of  humility.  What  little  things  are  we,  in  com- 
parison of  the  great  God?  Less  than  a  mote  in  the 
beams  of  the  sun,  or  a  drop  of  w^ater  in  the  mighty- 
ocean.  Comparing  ourselves  with  those  beneath  us, 
our  pride  is  apt  to  gather  strength;  and  hence  it  is 
that  one  poor  w^orm  is  often  seen  proudly  to  elevate 
itself  against  another.  But  how  much  wiser  part 
should  we  act,  by  contrasting  our  own  littleness  with 
God's  unspeakable  greatness  !     David  was  sometimes 


50 


GOD  S    UNIVERSAL    PRESENCE. 


occupied  in  comparing  himself  with  the  immensity  of 
God's  works,  and  we  know  the  result  was  salutary. 
It  had  the  effect  not  only  to  humble  him,  as  an  insig- 
nificant being,  but  to  fill  him  with  admiring  and  ador- 
ing thoughts  of  God,  and  especially  of  his  infinite 
and  amazing  condescension.  "  When  I  consider  thy 
heavens,"  saith  he,  "  the  work  of  thy  fingers — the 
moon  and  the  stars  which  thou  hast  ordained — what  is 
man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him,  and  the  son  of  man 
that  thou  visitest  him?"  He  was  astonished  at  the 
insignificance  of  man;  nor  less  astonished  that  God 
should  regard  him  in  the  midst  of  his  mighty  works 
with  such  condescending  kindness  and  care.  The  same 
might  be  the  efifect,  were  we  oftener  to  look  up  to  God, 
and  consider  the  immensity  of  his  being.  One  would 
think  it  could  scarcely  fail  to  convince  us  that  we  are 
less  than  the  least  of  all  his  mercies  and  lighter  than 
vanity. 

4.  The  omnipresence  of  God,  lays  a  foundation  to 
remark  both  the  folly  and  the  sin  of  sin.  What 
can  set  its  folly  in  a  stronger  point  of  light?  God  has 
not  only  given  us  laws  worthy  to  be  obeyed,  but  he  is 
always  present  to  see  whether  w^e  obey  them.  His  all- 
seeing  eye  is  never  turned  from  us  a  single  moment. 
Whether  we  wake  or  sleep,  whether  we  weep  or  re- 
joice, whether  we  adore  or  blaspheme,  he  is  always 
round  about  us,  and  his  penetrating  glance  passes 
through  our  souls.  His  almighty  power  and  everlast- 
ing mercy  continually  sustain  us,  while  his  justice  is 
nigh,  and  ready  to  cut  us  off.  Who  would  think  under 
such  circumstanceSj  that  we  should  dare  to  offend  him? 


god's  universal  presence.  5  J 

But  the  poor  blinded  sinner  beholds  him  not.  He  fool- 
ishly imagines  that  God  is  afar  off, — too  far  to  notice 
his  transgressions,  or  to  inflict  upon  him  the  merited 
punishment.  Hence  the  language  of  his  heart  is,  "  Can 
God  judge  through  the  dark  cloud?  Surely  God  doth 
not  see,  neither  will  the  Almighty  regard  it."  The 
presence  of  a  servant  or  a  child,  is  often  sufficient  to 
deter  him  from  sin;  but  the  presence  of  the  great  God, 
the  Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth,  his  Maker,  and  Judge, 
is  inadequate  to  produce  this  effect.  What  greater 
proof  can  we  have  of  human  blindness  and  folly  ?  And 
yet  it  is  a  folly,  every  where  to  be  seen,  and  of  which 
thousands  are  habitually  guilty.  Why  does  the  thief 
dig  through  houses  in  the  dark,  which  he  has  marked 
out  for  himself  in  the  day  time?  Why  does  the  adul- 
terer wait  until  the  the  twilight,  saying  ''  no  eye  shall 
see  me?"  Why  do  sinners  of  any  description  cast 
around  them  the  curtains  of  darkness,  and  think  it 
enough,  if  they  can  but  conceal  their  iniquity  from  the 
eyes  of  mortals? — why,  but  because  they  forget,  or  do 
not  believe  that  the  eye  of  their  holy  and  eternalJudge 
is  upon  them?  We  have  called  thisyb%,  but  it  is  folly 
which  borders  on  madness; — for  can  the  fish  escape 
from  the  waters  of  the  ocean  through  which  it  swims,  or 
the  bird  from  the  air  through  which  it  flies?  If  they  can, 
then  can  the  sinner  hide  his  works  from  the  Lord,  and 
flee  from  the  vengeance  of  him,  in  whom  he  lives,  and 
moves,  and  has  his  being. 

But  the  divine  immensity  shows  not  only  the  folly, 
but  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin.  It  does  this  by 
teaching  the  greatness  and  glory  of  that  Being  against 


52  god's  universal  presence. 

whom  sin  is  committed,  and  the  circumstances  of 
atrocity,  which  attend  it.  By  how  much  greater  God 
is,  by  so  much  the  more  are  we  bound  to  respect  his 
authority;  and  by  so  much  greater  is  our  guilt,  if  we 
violate  that  authority.  What  then  must  sin  be,  which 
breaks  the  law,  and  insults  the  throne  of  the  great 
Eternal, — that  Being  who  fills  immensity  with  his 
presence,  who  centers  in  himself  infinite  power,  and 
wisdom  and  goodness,  and  who  has  made  the  richest 
display  of  all  his  perfections,  in  that  immeasurable 
kingdom  which  he  has  created  and  governs?  Who 
can  conceive  of  the  infinite  baseness  of  that  conduct, 
which  questions  his  authority,  and  tramples  upon  the 
rights  of  his  Godhead?  And  yet  this  is  the  character 
of  every  sin,  in  whatever  circumstances  committed. 
But  the  immensity  of  God's  presence  suggests  a  cir- 
cumstance, which  exceedingly  aggravates  the  guilt  of 
sin;  it  teaches  us  to  regard  it  as  an  audacious  atTront 
to  his  face.  Sin  is  not  committed  behind  his  back,  or 
in  some  remote  corner  of  the  universe,  never  visited  by 
his  presence.  Even  if  it  were,  nothing  could  excuse 
its  guilt  and  presumption.  But  it  is  always  done,  while 
he  surrounds  us,  and  penetrates  us.  How  deeply  this 
enhances  the  demerit  of  sin,  every  one  can  see  at  a 
glance.  For  shall  not  the  presence  of  his  glorious 
Majesty  restrain  us?  Shall  we  dare  to  offend  him  in 
the  very  sight  of  his  throne;  with  his  almighty  hand 
stretched  out  before  our  eyes,  and  his  authoritative 
voice  falling  upon  our  ears?  It  would  be  difficult  to 
credit  the  fact,  if  we  had  not  such  painful  proof  of  it, 
both  in  ourselves  and  others. 


god's  universal  presence.  53 

5.  As  the  omnipresence  of  God  argues  the  great 
guilt  of  sin,  so  it  likewise  demonstrates  the  greatness 
of  his  forbearance  towards  those  that  offend  him.  How 
amazing  that  his  wrath  should  not  wax  hot  against 
those,  who  continually  trample  upon  his  authority, 
■without  fear  or  remorse; — who  do  it,  and  persevere  in 
doing  it,  in  spite  of  his  most  solemn  and  earnest  re- 
monstrances,— treating  his  eternal  Majesty  as  if  his 
sceptre  was  but  a  bug-bear,  and  his  existence  a  dream! 
We  know  how  soon  we  kindle,  when  any  one  insults  us 
to  our  face; — especially  if  it  be  one  who  is  below  us,  and 
from  whom  we  consider  ourselves  as  entitled  to  more 
immediate  regard. 

But  the  Lord  is  God,  and  not  man;  else  the  children 
of  iniquity  would  be  speedily  consumed.  He  is  long 
suffering  to  us  ward,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish, 
but  that  all  should  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
He  knows  our  iniquities,  and  all  their  aggravations; 
for  they  are  committed  under  the  immediate  notice  of 
his  eye;  but  he  knows  also  how  to  restrain  his  anger, 
and  to  display  the  exceeding  riches  of  his  forbearance 
and  long-suffering.  May  we  never  mistake  this  for 
forgetfulness;  nor  think  that  his  long-suffering  is  an 
act  of  forgiveness. 

Finally.  This  subject  presents  a  comfortable  view 
of  divine  providence;  and  invites  us  to  place  our 
trust  under  the  shadow  of  God's  wings.  Is  he  every 
where?  He  is  every  where,  the  almighty,  infinitely 
wise  and  gracious  God.  His  power  and  grace  are  as 
near  to  us  as  his  essence,  and  he  cannot  fail  to  be  a 
present  helper  to  all  those  who  know  and  put  their 
6 


54 

trust  in  him.  As  the  mountains  are  round  about  Jerusa- 
lem, so  the  Lord  is  round  about  his  people  from  hence- 
forth, even  forever. 

Cultivate,  my  Christian  friends,  a  sense  of  God's 
presence.  It  will  enlarge  your  conceptions  of  his  divine 
majesty.  It  will  fortify  your  minds  against  temptation 
— it  will  encourage  and  strengthen  you  in  duty, — and 
in  times  of  darkness  and  trouble,  cause  your  consolations 
to  abound.  Trust  in  God,  and  you  will  have  no  cause 
to  fear,  though  the  earth  should  be  removed  and  the 
mountains  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea. 


SERMON  II. 


GOD'S  THOUGHTS  AND  WAYS  ABOVE  OURS. 


For  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  my  ways 
your  ways  saith  the  Lord.  For  as  the  Heavens  are  higher  than 
the  Earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  way s^  and  my  thoughts 
than  your  thoughts. 

There  needs  no  argument  to  show  that  there  is  an 
infinite  disparity  between  God's  thoughts,  and  the 
thoughts  of  his  creatures; — betw^een  his  ways  and  their 
ways.  Every  one  is  prepared  to  admit  with  the  prophet, 
that,  as  the  Heavens  are  high  above  the  Earth,  so  are 
God's  ways  above  our  ways,  and  his  thoughts  above 
our  thoughts.  And  yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  there 
is  a  proneness  in  us  all,  to  judge  of  God  by  ourselves; 
— to  measure  his  wisdom  by  our  wisdom;  his  right- 
eousness by  our  righteousness ;  and  his  goodness  and 
mercy  by  ours.  Hence  it  comes  to  pass  that  there  is  so 
little  fear  of  his  majesty,  so  little  confidence  in  his 
government,  so  little  faith  in  his  promise,  and  so  little 
hope  in  his  mercy. 

The  wicked  would  tremble  at  the  apprehension  of 
his  wrath,  if  they  did  not  either  doubt  his  existence,  or 
fancy  he  was  one  altogether  like  themselves,  having  as 


little  hatred  for  iniquity,  and  as  little  concern  for  the 
maintenance  of  his  authority  as  they:  and  the  good 
would  cheerfully  fly  into  his  arms,  at  all  times  when 
evils  pressed  or  dangers  threatened,  if  they  did  not 
compare  God  with  themselves,  and  entertain  low  and 
unbecoming  thoughts  of  his  being,  his  attributes,  or  his 
designs.  To  meet  men  at  this  point,  and  to  remove 
from  them  that  jealousy  and  distrust,  which  is  too  apt 
to  rise,  when  he  comes  to  them  even  with  messages  of 
mercy,  the  Lord  declares  that  his  thoughts  are  not  their 
thoughts,  nor  his  ways  their  ways. 

He  had  just  said  by  the  prophet,  "  Let  the  wicked 
forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts, 
and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will  have 
mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God  for  he  will  abundantly 
pardon."  But  he  knew  their  unbelief  would  consider 
this  as  impossible, — or  at  least  as  stretching  so  far  be- 
yond the  bounds  of  probability,  as  not  seriously  to 
merit  their  attention,  or  offer  a  suitable  ground  for  their 
hopes.  He  points  them,  therefore,  to  the  wide  differ- 
ence between  his  thoughts  and  their  thoughts,  his  ways 
and  their  ways,  and  illustrates  it  by  a  comparison  which 
instantly  strikes  and  overpowers  the  mind; — a  com- 
parison whose  beauty  and  sublimity  nothing  can  sur- 
pass. "  For  as  the  Heavens  are  higher  than  the  Earth, 
so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts 
than  your  thoughts.''^  Not  only  the  wide  difference  be- 
tween God's  thoughts,  and  ours,  but  their  transcendent 
excellence  above  ours,  is  strongly  portrayed  by  this 
beautiful  similitude.  We  raise  our  eyes  to  the  starry 
Heavens,  beyond  which  human  sight  cannot  penetrate: 


god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours.         57 

^ve  behold  the  celestial  orbs,  with  their  sparkling  and 
cheering  light,  spread  out  over  our  habitations^  but  at 
such  an  immense  distance  above  us,  as  to  baffle  our  con- 
ceptions the  moment  we  attempt  to  compute,  or  even 
to  imagine  it.  Yet  tliere,  we  behold  as  in  a  glass,  the 
immeasurable  height,  the  boundless  extent,  the  salutary 
influence,  of  the  mercy  of  Jehovah.  There  we  see  an 
instructive  emblem  of  the  infinite  superiority  of  all 
God's  thoughts  and  ways  to  ours, — a  superiority,  which 
should  render  our  confidence  in  him  the  most  unshaken^ 
and  our  worship  of  him  the  most  humble  and  profound. 

But  the  point  to  which  I  wish  more  especially  to 
direct  your  attention  is.  That  God's  ways  are  not  as  our 
ways,  7wr  his  thoughts  as  our  thoughts,  hut  that  a  wide 
and  astonishing  difference  exists  between  them.  By 
God's  thoughts,  we  intend  not  his  perceptions  merely, 
but  his  counsels,  his  purposes  and  designs: — and  by  his 
ways,  the  execution  of  his  purposes  in  the  various 
operations  of  his  hand,  whether  in  the  creation,  pre- 
servation or  government  of  the  world.  God's  ways  are 
the  interpretation  of  his  thoughts  and  designs.  His 
thoughts  are  not  our  thoughts,  w^e  remark, 

1.  As  there  is  no  succession  in  them:  they  all  exist 
in  his  own  infinite  mind,  at  the  same  time,  and  without 
any  variation  of  their  order,  or  the  least  shadow  of 
change.  He  has  no  new  thoughts,  and  none,  which 
are  not  at  all  times  equally  piesent.  Hence  his  view 
of  objects  is  always  the  same,  and  that  view  absolutely 
perfect.  It  is  altogether  different  with  us.  Our  thoughts 
follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  are  never  the 
same  at  one  moment  that  they  are  at  another,  Many 
*6 


58  god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours. 

of  the  same  thoughts  do  indeed  return;  but  it  is  always 
with  some  new^  combinations,  and  with  some  diversity 
in  their  character  and  order:  and  from  this  source  it  is, 
that  our  views  and  impressions  of  objects  are  so  fluc- 
tuating, even  where  there  is  no  radical  change.  Our 
thoughts  may  fitly  be  compared  to  a  stream,  whose 
waters  flow  on  in  constant  succession,  but  whose  depth 
and  breadth,  though  not  perpetually  the  same,  are  at  all 
times  extremely  limited;  while  God's  thoughts  are 
better  resembled  to  an  ocean,  where  the  stream  dis- 
appears, and  where  there  is  neither  bottom  nor  shore. 
Which  leads  me  to  remark, 

2.  That  God's  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts, 
because  they  embrace  an  infinitely  greater  number  of 
objects;  they  encompass  the  universe  with  all  its  parts, 
with  its  infinite  variety  of  movements;  and  that  not 
through  any  given  period  only,  but  from  the  first 
moment  of  created  existence,  through  the  boundless 
ages  of  an  unwasting  duration.  Not  a  leaf  in  the 
forest,  not  a  grain  of  sand  upon  the  shore,  not  a 
mote  which  glitters  in  the  sunbeam,  not  the  merest 
atom  in  all  God's  works,  which  is  not  the  object  of  his 
thoughts,  and  the  subject  of  his  eternal  counsels.  He 
sees  it  through  every  part  of  its  duratiou.  He  presides 
over  all  its  changes,  he  determines  all  its  results, 
whether  single  or  combined. 

How  different  is  it  with  us.  Our  thoughts  extend 
but  to  a  few  things,  even  in  the  world  which  we  in- 
habit, while  we  are  left  almost  in  total  ignorance  of 
the  universe  which  surrounds  us.  Not  only  are  we 
creatures  of  yesterday,  and  comparatively  know  no- 


god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours.  59 

thing,  but  our  sphere  of  observation  is  extremely 
circumscribed;  we  have  contemplated  as  yet  but  the 
minutest  portion  of  God's  works.  Like  some  insects 
which  never  travel  beyond  the  leaf  on  which  they  are 
formed,  we  are,  in  a  great  measure,  strangers  to  that 
infinitude  of  objects,  which  spread  through  boundless 
regions  on  every  side.  Nor  is  this  all;  how  imperfect 
are  our  conceptions  of  those  objects  which  pass  under 
our  notice.  After  all  our  research,  we  see  but  the  mere 
surface  of  things,  and  know  nothing  perfectly,  in  its 
nature,  qualities  and  relations.  But  as  for  God,  his 
way  is  perfect.  All  things  lie  open,  and  naked  to  his 
view.  He  sees  and  pervades  them  in  the  most  intimate 
and  perfect  manner.     Hence  we  observe, 

3.  That  God's  thoughts  and  purposes  never  change; 
— a  circumstance  which  renders  them  widely  ditferent 
from  ours.  Our  schemes  of  operation  are  seldom  laid 
with  such  intelligence  as  not  to  undergo  considerable 
modification,  as  new  events  unfold,  or  as  a  deeper  in- 
vestigation presents  the  subject  more  fully  before  us. 
Often  we  are  obliged  to  abandon  our  plans  altogether. 

It  is  far  otherwise  with  the  Almighty:  His  counsels 
are  laid  with  such  deep  and  unfathomable  skill  as  never 
to  require  alteration.  He  sees  the  end  from  the  begin- 
ning. He  has  a  perfect  knowledge  of  all  that  does,  or 
will,  or  can  exist;  and  therefore  with  him,  there  is  no 
variableness  or  shadow  of  turning;  there  is  no  motive 
to  change.  His  views  being  the  same,  his  purposes 
must  be  unalterable.  Hence  we  read,  "  He  is  of  one 
mind,    and   who   can   turn   him?"      There   be  many 


60  god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours. 

thoughts  in  man's  heart,  but  the  counsel  of  the  Lord, 
that  shall  stand. 

4.  We  notice  another  striking  and  important  differ- 
ence between  God's  thoughts  or  purposes  and  ours, — 
he  is  never  disappointed.  All  his  purposes  go  into  full 
effect.  That  which  he  determines,  he  accomplishes; 
and  accomplishes  at  the  very  time  and  by  the  very 
means,  he  before  appointed.  Nothing  of  all  his  eternal 
counsels,  whether  great  or  small,  fails  of  its  existence, 
its  manner  or  its  end. 

How  extremely  different  with  us.  We  purpose,  but 
often  our  purpose  proves  abortive;  we  do  not  effect  the 
thing  we  intend,  and  even  when  we  do,  the  event  not 
unfrequently  disappoints  us.  Things  continually  cross 
our  expectations;  what  we  have  often  dreaded  perhaps 
never  comes  to  pass,  and  what  we  have  fully  expected 
and  desired,  is  never  realized.  Nothing  is  more  com- 
mon than  for  our  hopes  to  expand  with  eagerness  and 
delight  on  some  future  good,  when  nothing  but  the 
grief  of  disappointment,  and  the  darkness  and  bitterness 
of  despair  are  before  us.  To  day  our  vessel  leaves  the 
shore,  with  wide  spread  sails  and  prosperous  winds:  no 
dark  cloud  lowers  in  the  horizon,  to  excite  our  fear  or 
dampen  our  joy ;  but  ere  to-morrow'ssun  our  sky  is  over- 
cast; the  winds  howl;  the  storm  descends;  and  we  are 
engulfed  in  the  mighty  weaves.  But  with  God,  every 
thing  moves  on  in  an  even  course,  according  to  his  wise 
and  eternal  counsels.  The  events  that  occur,  so  far  from 
crossing  his  expectations,  only  present  a  regular  de- 
velopement  of  the  purposes  of  his  own  infinite  and 
unsearchable  mind. 


god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours.  61 

Shall  I  remark, 

5.  That  we  find  a  great  difference  between  God's 
thoughts  and  ours,  in  the  different  ends  which  are  pur- 
sued by  him  and  by  us,  even  where  the  same  events  are 
concerned.  God's  purposes  and  ours  in  this  respect 
often  run  counter  to  each  other.  We  intend  one  thing 
by  a  certain  course;  he  intends  another;  and  therein 
displays  the  depth  of  his  eternal  counsels.  It  is  thus 
that  the  wise  are  often  taken  in  their  own  craftiness,  and 
made  to  minister  to  purposes  and  designs,  which  they 
would  willingly  and  with  all  their  might,  have  con- 
tributed to  destroy.  See  an  illustration  of  this  in  the 
history  of  Joseph.  His  brethren  sold  him  into  Egypt, 
w-ith  a  view  to  prevent  the  accomplishment  of  his 
dreams  They  did,  how^ever,  but  fulfil  the  divine  inti- 
mation by  the  very  steps  which  they  took  to  counteract 
it.  They  meant  evil  against  Joseph,  but  God  meant  it 
for  good;  intending  thereby  to  nourish  Jacob's  family 
in  a  time  of  famine,  and  to  save  much  people  alive; 
and  thus  to  pave  the  way  for  that  illustrious  manifesta- 
tion of  his  own  glory,  which  stood  connected  with  the 
future  destination  of  the  Israelites. 

We  see  the  same  thing  illustrated  in  the  conduct  of 
the  proud  Assyrian  king,  whom  God  styles  the  rod  of 
his  anger  and  the  staff"  of  his  indignation.  He  had 
laid  waste  Israel  and  other  nations,  not  with  a  view  to 
chastise  them  for  their  sins,  or  to  fulfil  any  purpose  of 
the  Almighty  in  regard  to  them,  but  solely  to  minister 
to  his  pride,  his  covetousness  and  his  ambition.  His 
views  were  totally  different  from  God's;  and  therefore 
when  God  said,  "  I  will  send  him  against  an  hypocri- 


62 


GOD  S  THOUGHTS  AND  WAYS  ABOVE  OURS. 


tical  nation  and  against  the  people  of  my  wrath  will  I 
give  him  a  charge,  to  take  the  spoil,  and  to  take  the 
prey,  and  to  tread  them  down  like  the  mire  in  the 
streets,"  he  adds,  "  Howbeit,  he  meaneth  not  so,  neither 
doth  his  heart  think  so — but  it  is  in  his  heart  to  de- 
stroy and  to  cut  off  nations  not  a  few." 

The  very  interesting  fact  of  our  Lord's  death  pre- 
sents a  similar  illustration  of  the  same  truth.  Judas 
had  his  ends  in  betraying  Christ;  the  Jews  had  theirs 
in  accusing  him  and  demanding  his  crucifixion;  Pilate 
had  his  in  giving  sentence  against  him  contrary  to  his 
own  conscience,  and  the  importunity  of  his  bosom 
friend;  the  soldiers  had  theirs  in  executing  the  orders 
of  their  governor;  and  the  powers  of  darkness  doubt- 
less had  theirs,  different  probably  from  all  the  rest,  in 
stirring  up  and  pushing  forward  all  the  guilty  actors  in 
this  scene;  and  God  had  his,  not  only  in  permitting, 
but  in  so  ordering  and  disposing  events  as  to  make  the 
death  of  Christ  certain,  and  all  the  circumstances  of  it 
precisely  what  they  were.  For  we  are  expressly  told 
"  that  they  did  nothing  to  his  holy  child  Jesus,  but  what 
his  hand  and  counsel  had  afore  determined  to  be  done." 
What  can  impress  us  more  that  God's  ways  are  not  our 
ways,  nor  his  thoughts  our  thoughts,  than  such  deep 
and  unsearchable  v/orkings  of  his  providence,  where 
the  instruments  he  raises  up  pursue  ends  totally  differ- 
ent from  his,  and  yet  in  the  issue  do  but  the  more 
effectually  accomplish  his  own  immutable  counsels. 

6.  God's  ways  and  thoughts  are  very  different  from 
ours,  in  the  estimate  he  puts  upon  objects  and  events 
which  stand  related  to  our  happiness.     There  are  things 


god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours.  63 

which  we  deem  of  the  utmost  importance  to  ourselves 
and  others,  which  God,  who  takes  all  the  circumstances 
into  view,  regards  as  no  favor  at  all,  and  v;hich  there- 
fore he  will  not  grant  or  continue,  however  importu- 
nately we  may  desire  them;  and  there  are  things  which 
we  deprecate  as  the  greatest  of  all  evils,  which  God 
nevertheless  deems  necessary  to  our  highest  good,  and 
which  he  resolves  shall  take  place,  whatever  may 
be  our  prayers  or  wishes  to  the  contrary.  We  have 
reflected  but  little  upon  our  own  case,  or  that  of  our 
friends,  if  we  have  not  seen  this  remark  often  verified. 
Most  of  our  afflictions  give  us  an  important  lesson  on 
this  subject,  always  indeed  when  they  are  of  the  nature 
of  a  gracious  moral  discipline.  They  consist  in  the 
privation  of  some  apparent  good,  or  in  the  infliction  of 
some  positive  evil;  but  whenever  they  take  place,  we 
have  occasion  to  remark  how  diflferently  God  judges  of 
things  from  what  we  do.  But  if  God's  ways  are  dif- 
ferent from  ours  in  things  which  are  undesirable  to  us, 
and  contrary  to  our  wishes,  they  are  certainly  not  less  so, 
7.  In  things  that  are  dark  and  mysterious.  And  0 
how  often  does  he  pursue  a  path  which  we  can  not  trace! 
How  often,  both  in  his  works  of  creation  and  provi- 
dence, does  he  do  things  great  and  wonderful,  and  past 
finding  out!  I  do  not  now"  speak  of  things  whose  hid- 
den causes  we  can  not  investigate,  or  whose  principles 
and  relations  equally  baffle  our  research;  but  of  things 
which  apparently  contradict  our  reason;  which  to  say 
the  least,  are  precisely  the  reverse  of  what  we  should 
have  expected,  antecedent  to  their  occurrence. 
In  casting  our  eyes  over  the  face  of  this  world,  how 


64  god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours. 

many  things  do  we  meet  with  which  astonish  and 
confound  us,  in  the  formation  of  the  earth,  and  in  the 
character  and  condition  of  its  inhabitants?  Who  would 
have  expected  so  much  water  on  the  surface  of  the 
globe;  so  many  inaccessible  mountains, — the  region 
of  eternal  frost  and  barrenness, — so  many  vast  and 
frightful  deserts,  unsuited  for  the  habitation  of  either 
man  or  beast?  Who  would  have  expected  to  find  so 
many  noxious  plants  and  animals,  whose  eifect  seems 
to  us  little  else  than  to  mar  the  other  works  of  God? 
Why  is  man  an  enemy  to  his  Maker?  Who  could  have 
believed  prior  to  the  event,  and  reasoning  only  from 
the  holiness  and  goodness  of  God,  that  sin  ever  could 
have  found  its  way  into  the  moral  kingdom  of  Jehovah? 
But  here  it  is,  and  here  it  is  likely  to  be  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree  to  all  eternity.  How  strange  is  it,  that 
so  great  a  portion  of  the  human  race,  probably  more 
than  one-half,  are  cut  off  before  they  are  five  years  of 
age  !  How  strange  that,  since  a  Saviour  is  provided, 
so  few  of  the  human  race  have  yet  been  brought  to  the 
knowledge  of  his  character  and  work, — that  more  than 
four-fifths  still  remain  in  a  state  of  heathenish  darkness! 
How  passing  strange  that  by  far  the  greater  part, 
w^here  the  word  of  life  is  dispensed,  go  down  to  perdi- 
tion, age  after  age,  in  all  the  madness  of  impenitence, 
and  the  guilt  of  unbelief  I 

It  is  contrary  to  all  our  modes  of  reasoning  and 
judging,  and  w^hat  seems  no  less  dark  and  mysterious 
now,  than  it  did  thousands  of  years  ago,  that  the  young, 
the  wise,  the  virtuous,  the  useful  and  the  happy,  should 
often  be  plucked  away  from  the  most  interesting  stations 


65 

and  relations  in  society,  while  those  of  a  very  different 
character,  whose  lives  perhaps  are  a  burden  to  them- 
selves and  a  heavy  trial  to  others,  are  suffered  to  drag 
out  to  a  surprising  length  their  apparently  useless  and 
miserable  existence.  But  there  is  no  end  to  the  mys- 
terious dispensations  of  divine  providence,  all  of  which 
proclaim  his  ways  not  to  be  as  our  ways,  and  his 
thoughts  not  as  our  thoughts. 

8.  God's  ways  are  not  only  widely  different  from 
ours  but  infinitely  above  them.     They  have  an  excel- 
lence which  no    finite  thought  can  conceive,  and  no 
comparison  illustrate.     All  that  he  does  and  all  that  he 
purposes,  is  infinitely  wise,  holy,  just  and  good.     No- 
thing can  frustrate  his  wisdom  or  disconcert  his  infi- 
nitely glorious  designs.     He  never  errs  in  judgment; 
his  truth  is  firmer  than  the  everlasting  mountains;  his 
benevolence  is  unwearied  and  expansive,  embracing  the 
highest  good  of  his  great  kingdom;  his  righteousness  is 
an  everlasting  righteousness,  and  his  mercy,  infinitely 
tender,  endureth  to  all  generations.     It  was  this  glori- 
ous attribute  more  especially,  that  he  intended  to  set 
before  us,  when  he  said,  "  My  thoughts  are  not  your 
thoughts,  neither   are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the 
Lord;  for  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so 
are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts 
than  your  thoughts."     And  well,  my  dear  brethren  is 
it  for    us    that  his  mercy    stretches  itself  so  infinitelv 
above  and  beyond  ours.     What  could  we  hope  for,  vile 
and  polluted  as  we  are,  if  we  had  not  the  mercy  of  a 
God  to  repair  to?     This  David  saw  and  felt,  when, 
under  the  expectation  of  being  corrected  for  his  sins, 
7 


66  god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours. 

he  said  "  Let  me  fall  into  the  hands  of  God,  and  not 
into  the  hands  of  man."  And  this  was  all  his  hope, 
when,  smarting  under  a  sense  of  his  amazing  guilt,  he 
cried,  "  Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God,  according  to 
thy  loving  kindness,  according  unto  the  multitude  of 
thy  tender  mercies,  blot  out  my  transgressions." 

It  would  be  an  interesting  part  of  this  subject,  did 
our  time   admit  of  it,  to  show  wherein  God's  mercy 
differs  from  our  mercy,  and  infinitely  transcends  it; — 
that  in  the  choice  of  its  objects, — in  the  measures  it 
adopts  towards  them,  and  above  all,  in  its  endurance 
under  the  vilest  provocations,  and  in  the  incalculable 
blessings  it  bestows,  it  is  a  mercy  exceedingly  different 
from  that  w^hich  dwells  in  the  bosoms  of  men,  and  is  as 
much  above  it,  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the  earth. 
Let  us  close  with  some  brief  reflections. 
First:     Since  God's  w^ays  are  not  as  our  ways,  nor 
his  thoughts  as  our  thoughts,  but  infinitely  above  them, 
how  great  the  criminality  and  the  folly  of  arraigning 
his  proceedings   and  judging  of  them  at  our  tribunal. 
What  is  short  sighted  man, — a  creature  of  yesterday, 
that  he  should  think  of  sitting  in  judgment  upon  the 
ways  of  God?     Can  a  child  enter  into  the  concerns  of 
a  mighty   empire?     Can  he   decide   with  correctness 
upon  the  measures  of  government,  necessary  to  be  adopt- 
ed, in  managing  those  concerns?     Can  he  say  what 
would  be  wise,  or  what  unwise,  in  a  policy  embracing 
interests  so  vast,  so  various  and  so  complicated?  Could 
he  even  understand  that  policy,  should  the  reasons  of  it 
be  set  forth  in  language  intelligible  to  others?     Equally 
incompetent  is  man  to  judge  of  the  wisdom  of  him  who 


67 

is  infinite,  and  to  scan  the  proceedings  of  a  govern- 
ment which  has  the  universe  for  the  field  of  its  opera- 
tions, and  an  eternity  in  which  to  develope  the  full 
effect  of  its  designs.  Instead  of  questioning,  therefore, 
either  the  wisdom  or  goodness  of  God  in  things  which 
we  can  not  understand,  how  much  more  becoming  our 
condition  to  fall  at  his  feet  and  adore  I 

Secondly:  Since  God's  thoughts  are  not  as  our 
thoughts,  limited  to  a  narrow  sphere,  but  embrace  the 
whole  system  of  creatures  and  events,  the  most  minute, 
as  well  as  the  most  enlarged,  we  should  be  careful  not 
to  forget  God,  but  humbly  acknowledge  him  in  all  our 
ways.  As  no  event  is  too  insignificant  to  become  the 
subject  of  his  eternal  counsels,  so  none  is  too  small  to 
be  followed  w^ith  amazing  consequences  of  good  or 
evil,  as  his  providence  shall  direct.  This  is  a  suflS- 
cient  reason  for  casting  our  care  on  the  Lord;  and  even 
in  the  most  trivial  circumstances  of  our  lives,  begging 
for  the  guidance  and  protection  of  his  most  gracious 
and  powerful  hand. 

This  thought  should  impress  us  the  more,  as  we  have 
come  near  to  the  close  of  the  present,  and  shall,  if  God 
spare  us,  shortly  enter  upon  the  events  of  a  new  year. 
Ah,  who  can  tell  what  is  before  us — what  scenes  of 
darkness  and  perplexity,  and  what  need  we  shall  stand 
in  of  being  guided  by  his  gracious  counsels,  and  having 
our  hope  firmly  fixed  in  his  abounding  love. 

Thirdly:  As  God's  ways  are  extremely  different 
from  ours,  and  often  marked  by  the  most  unsearchable 
proceedings,  we  ought  to  beware  of  imagining  that  we 
are  his  friends,  merely  because  we  are  favoured  with 


68  god's  thoughts  and  ways  above  ours. 

great  outward  privileges,  and  the  Lord  employs  us  as 
the  instruments  of  signal  good  to  others.  His  thoughts 
and  counsels  are  very  deep.  He  raised  up  Jehu,  and 
set  him  upon  the  throne  of  the  house  of  Israel  to  execute 
his  wrath  upon  the  family  of  Ahab,  but  he  did  not 
admit  him  to  the  secret  of  his  covenant.  For  aught 
that  appears,  he  was  finally  abandoned  of  God  and 
utterly  cast  away.  The  Lord  raised  up  Judas,  intro- 
duced him  into  the  family  of  Christ,  endowed  him 
with  miraculous  gifts,  and  sent  him  forth  to  preach  the 
gospel;  and  after  all  had  no  pleasure  in  him,  but  left 
him  to  die  a  horrible  death  and  to  go  to  his  own  place. 

Let  us  then  be  cautious  of  inferring  our  interest  in 
God's  favour  from  any  external  privileges  or  blessings 
which  may  attend  us.  The  only  proof  we  can  have 
that  we  are  entitled  to  his  friendship  is  that  we  love 
him  and  keep  his  commandments. 

Fourthly:  If  God's  thoughts  are  not  only  diverse 
from  ours,  but  infinitely  above  them,  it  ought  not  to 
surprise  us  that  the  wheels  of  his  providence  often  move 
high  and  dreadful,  and  that  his  paths  are  in  the  deep 
waters  where  his  footsteps  are  not  known.  How  can 
it  be  otherwise,  since  his  providence  embraces  a  scheme 
of  government  so  w^idely  extended  in  its  objects  and 
which  is  to  endure  forever? 

Fifthly :  If  God's  thoughts  and  ways  are  not  as  ours, 
but  infinitely  above  them,  devising  and  carrying  for- 
ward a  glorious  system  of  operation  throughout  his 
immeasurable  kingdom,  how  unspeakably  happy  are 
they  who  are  numbered  among  his  friends.  Their 
highest  interests    are  as  secure  as  eternal  power  and 


69 

wisdom  can  make  them.  Nothing  can  fall  out,  aside 
or  beyond  his  wise  and  holy  counsels; — nothing  which 
shall  not  ultimately  advance  the  happiness  of  his  peo- 
ple and  the  glory  of  his  name.  Here  is  a  strong 
foundation,  my  dear  brethren,  for  your  hopes.  Here  is 
repose  and  quiet  for  you  amidst  the  storms  and  troubles 
of  this  adverse  world.  God  is  on  the  throne,  and  under 
his  direction  all  things  will  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  him.  You  are  embraced  in  the  folds  of 
his  everlasting  covenant. 

Finally:  Since  God  has  a  government  wide  as  the 
universe  and  durable  as  eternity,  rich  in  counsel  and 
unfathomable  in  design,  what  new  and  wonderful  scenes 
are  the  friends  of  God  destined  to  witness  in  the  pro- 
gress of  their  being:  nay,  what  a  glorious  place  will 
Heaven  be  when  God  shall  unveil  to  his  children  in  a 
succession  which  shall  know  no  end,  the  high  and 
glorious  purposes  concealed  in  his  bosom  from  eternity, 
— purposes  which  have  been  gradually  unfolding  in  the 
creation  and  government  of  the  world.  Christian, 
surely  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  thou  shalt  be,  but 
this  know, — that  it  shall  be  thine  everlasting  employ- 
ment to  explore  the  works,  to  admire  the  perfections, 
to  celebrate  the  praises  of  a  covenant  keeping  God, 

7* 


SERMON  III. 


GOD'S  FAVOUR  TO  THE  UPRIGHT. 


PSALM  LXXXIV.,  11. 

•^  For  the  Lord  God  is  a  siin  and  shield :  the  Lord  ivill  give 
grace  and  glory,  and  no  good  thing  will  he  withhold  from  them 
that  ivalk  uprightly!''' 

The  author  of  this  psalm  had  been  excluded,  for  a 
time,  from  the  tabernacle  of  the  Lord ;  but  under  what 
particular  circumstances,  it  does  not  appear.  It  is  certain 
however,  that  he  deeply  felt  the  privation,  and  longed 
with  ardent  desire  for  another  opportunity  of  w^aiting 
upon  God  in  his  sanctuary.  He  seemed  to  envy  the 
very  swallows,  which  made  their  nests  in  the  summit 
of  the  building;  w^hile  he  pronounced  those  blessed,  in 
an  eminent  degree,  who  by  their  frequent  visits  to  the 
house  of  God,  might  be  said  to  dwell  in  his  courts.  He 
knew,  by  his  own  experience,  w^hat  joy  thrilled  their 
hearts,  w^hile  they  uttered  the  mighty  acts  of  the  Lord, 
— and  what  inward  strength  w^as  imparted  to  them, 
while  they  attended  upon  the  institutions  of  his  appoint- 
ment. "  Blessed,"  says  he,  "  is  the  man,  w^hose  strength 
is  in  thee;  in  w^hose  heart  are  the  ways  of  them;  w^ho 
passing  through  the  valley  of  Baca,  make  it  a  well; 
the  rain  also  filleth  the  pools."     Yes,  blessed  are  they 


71 

whose  thirsty  souls  are  refreshed  by  the  waters  of  the 
sanctuary.  "  They  go  from  strength  to  strength ;  every 
one  of  them  in  Zion  appeareth  before  God.  For  a  day 
in  thy  courts  is  better  than  a  thousand;  I  had  rather 
be  a  doorkeeper  in  the  house  of  my  God,  than  to  dwell 
in  the  tents  of  wickedness."  And  why?  Was  the 
service  delightful?  Was  it  profitable?  He  answers  in 
the  words  of  our  text — "  For  the  Lord  God  is  a  sun  and 
shield;  the  Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory,  and  no 
good  thing  will  he  withhold  from  them  that  walk  up- 
rightly." The  words  need  no  comment;  they  express 
clearly  and  strongly  the  safety  and  felicity  of  God's 
true  worshippers.  God  will  be  all  to  them  w^hich  they 
need,  for  time  and  eternity; — a  sun  to  enlighten  them 
by  day,  a  shield  to  protect  them  against  every  rising 
danger,  an  all  sufficient  friend  in  every  season  of  want 
or  sorrow,  granting  every  needful  succor  in  this  world, 
and  everlasting  glory  in  the  next.  But  that  we  may 
mistake  neither  their  character  nor  their  privileges,  let 
us  consider  more  particularly  who  they  are,  that,  in  the 
sense  of  our  text,  may  be  said  to  walk  uprightli/,  and 
then  notice  the  blessings  which  the  Psalmist  here 
attaches  to  their  condition. 

1.  Who  are  they,  that  may  be  said  to  walk  up- 
rightly ? 

We  embrace  in  this  description  those  who  are  up- 
right in  heart  and  upright  in  life;  whose  general  course 
of  action  accords  with  the  law  of  duty  laid  down  in 
the  Bible,  and  whose  inward  principles  and  motives 
are  regulated  by  the  same  rule.  In  the  language  of 
the  world  indeed,  we  often  speak  of  a  man  as  upright, 


72 

when  nothing  more  is  intended,  than  that  he  is  just  and 
fair  in  his  dealings,  correct  and  honorable  in  his  genera 
intercourse,  in  opposition  to  duplicity,  shuffling  and 
fraud.  We  vouch  nothing  for  his  piety,  nor  even  for 
his  sobriety  and  self-command.  He  may  be  upright  in 
the  common  acceptation  of  the  term,  without  possessing 
either  of  these  virtues.  But  not  so  in  the  language  of 
the  scriptures.  Here  an  upright  man  is  a  truly  good 
man;  one  that  fears  God  and  keeps  his  commandments. 
Uprightness  is  but  another  name  for  rectitude  of  action, 
the  law  of  God  being  the  standard  with  which  the  action 
is  compared.  Where  there  is  no  degree  of  conformity 
to  this  law,  there  is  no  degree  of  uprightness;  nay, 
where  there  is  not  a  prevailing  conformity,  the  truly 
upright  man  cannot  be  found.  Men  have  their  charac- 
ters given  to  them  in  the  Bible,  not  from  a  single  act, 
but  from  a  series  of  acts.  They  are  good,  w^here  the 
course  of  action  is  good;  and  they  are  evil,  where  the 
course  of  action  is  evil.  Hence,  in  our  text,  they  who 
are  the  subjects  of  the  divine  favour,  are  said  to  walk 
uprightly.  Walking  is  a  continued  action;  and  in  a 
good  measure  uniform.  It  supposes  purpose,  and  steadi- 
ness of  purpose;  and  is  upon  both  accounts,  a  just  and 
appropriate  figure  to  express  one's  habits  of  life.  We 
must  keep  in  mind,  however,  that  these  habits  are  not 
merely  external:  they  proceed  from  inward  and  cor- 
responding principles;  and  in  the  case  of  those  who 
walk  uprightly,  they  proceed  from  true  love  to  God, 
and  from  a  just  regard  to  the  welfare  of  his  kingdom. 
I  could  not  better  express  the  character  of  an  upright 
man,  than  by  affirming  these  three  things  concerning 


god's  favour  to  the  upright.  73 

him.  First — He  keeps  God's  commands  from  choice; 
they  are  not  grievous  to  him.  Secondly — He  keeps  all 
God's  commands,  without  selecting  one  in  distinction 
from  another.  His  aim  is  universal  obedience,  and  that, 
because  every  part  of  God's  law  is  equally  sacred, 
having  been  ordained  by  equal  authority.  And,  Third- 
ly— He  thus  obeys,  not  at  particular  seasons,  or  on 
special  occasions,  where  interest  or  other  circumstances 
favour  it,  but  as  an  habitual  and  prevalent  course  of 
action.  It  is  his  main  business — his  life.  With  this 
view  of  those  who  may  be  said  to  walk  uprightly,  let 
us,  in  the 

2.  Next  place  notice  the  blessings  which  the  Psalm- 
ist, in  the  words  of  our  text,  attaches  to  their  condition. 
"  The  Lord  God  is  a  sun,  and  shield;  the  Lord  will 
give  grace  and  glory,  and  no  good  thing  will  he  with- 
hold from  them  that  walk  uprightly." 

The  Lord  God  is  a  sun.  He  is  so  to  the  upright, 
inasmuch  as  he  sheds  light  upon  their  path,  while  tra- 
velling through  this  gloomy  wilderness.  Without  this 
light — the  light  of  his  holy  word,  they  would  not  know 
what  to  believe,  or  what  to  do,  or  would  know  but  im- 
perfectly. But  they  open  his  word,  and  there  they 
discover  those  great  and  precious  truths,  which  other- 
wise would  have  been  but  partially  revealed,  or  alto- 
gether unknown.  There  they  see  what  a  great  and 
glorious  being  God  is;  how  holy,  wise,  just,  merciful 
and  true.  There  they  learn  the  nature  and  extent  of 
his  law,  and  the  great  ends  of  his  moral  government. 
There  sin  is  seen,  and  the  awful  punishment  which 
God  has  annexed  to  it,  and  there  above  all,  they  learn 


74  god's  favour  to  the  upright. 

that  God  can  and  will  forgive  sin,  and  the  terms  on 
which  he  will  forgive  it.  In  a  word,  life  and  immor- 
tality are  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel,  and  they  see 
distinctly  what  men  have  to  hope  or  fear  in  relation 
to  a  future  world. 

But  does  not  God's  word  shed  this  light  upon  all, 
where  it  comes,  whether  upright  or  not?  In  one  im- 
portant sense  surely  it  does.  It  is  in  many  respects 
like  the  sun,  a  common  privilege.  But  what  we  assert 
is,  that  it  works  this  blessed  effect  in  a  peculiar  man- 
ner in  relation  to  the  upright.  They  receive  its  testi- 
mony with  greater  cordiality,  and  more  willingly  yield 
themselves  to  be  guided  by  its  counsels.  Taught  by 
the  Spirit,  the  very  same  Spirit  which  dictated  the 
word,  they  are  more  clearly  enabled  to  discern  the 
truths  it  contains,  and  have  a  far  deeper  impression  of 
their  importance.  "They  have  an  unction,"  as  St. 
John  says,  "  from  the  Holy  One,  and  know  all 
things." 

God  enlightens  his  people,  moreover,  in  the  duties 
they  are  to  perform,  as  well  as  in  the  truths  they  are 
to  believe.  His  word  not  only  lays  down  general  rules 
by  which  their  conduct  is  to  be  regulated,  but  it  de- 
scends to  innumerable  particulars.  It  marks  out  their 
duty  clearly,  to  God,  to  their  fellow  creatures,  and  to 
themselves.  In  this  respect  the  entrance  of  God's  word 
giveth  light,  making  the  path  of  duty  so  plain  that  he 
that  runs  may  read. 

It  deserves,  however,  to  be  remarked,  that  the  light 
which  God  sheds  upon  the  minds  of  his  people,  is  not 
merely  speculative  j   it  informs  the  understanding,  but 


god's  favour  to  the  upright.  75 

at  the  same  time,  it  also  persuades  the  heart.  The 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  a  candle,  which  searcheth  all  the 
inward  powers,  and  in  the  light  of  which  the  spiritual 
beauty  of  divine  things  is  discerned.  Without  this  all 
remains  ,dark  and  unattractive.  Men  may  know  what 
the  truth  is,  and  have  a  rational  conviction  of  duty, 
without  cordially  approving  of  the  one,  or  delighting 
in  the  other.  It  is  no  unusual  thing  indeed,  to  see  a 
well  informed  mind  connected  with  a  deeply  depraved 
heart.  But  God,  in  becoming  a  sun  to  his  people, 
exerts  an  influence  upon  the  affections,  as  well  as  upon 
the  understanding:  the  heart  is  won  at  the  same  time 
that  the  reasoning  faculty  or  the  judgment  becomes 
satisfied. 

But  further  —  God  is  a  sun  to  his  people,  as  he 
cheers  and  consoles  them  in  the  land  of  their  pil- 
grimage. It  is  one  of  the  natural  effects  of  the  sun, 
to  comfort  and  gladden  the  animal  world.  Hence 
Solomon  says,  "  Truly  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a  plea- 
sant thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun.  "All 
nature  feels  the  enlivening  influence  of  this  glorious 
luminary;  and  hence  it  becomes  a  just  and  beautiful 
emblem  of  the  God  of  all  grace  and  comfort,  who,  by 
his  diffusive  benevolence,  not  only  gladdens  the  hearts 
of  his  creatures  generally,  but  in  a  special  manner, 
cheers  and  consoles  his  people,  under  the  various  trials 
and  discouragements  which  attend  them  w^hile  sojourn- 
ing in  this  vale  of  tears.  We  have  all  experienced 
the  delight  which  the  sun  occasions  when  it  breaks 
through  a  cloud,  after  a  long  and  gloomy  storm;  when 
every   object    around  us,  and   especially   every  thing 


76 

which  hath  breath,  seems  to  hail  with  gladness  his  re- 
turning beams.  This  is  but  a  faint  image  of  the  joy 
which  is  felt,  when  God  lifts  up  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance upon  the  darkened  and  desponding  soul;  when 
the  clouds  of  fear,  of  guilt,  of  sorrow,  are  dissipated, 
and  a  sweet  serenity  takes  possession  of  the  heart,  and 
the  happy  subject  is  enabled  to  run  with  increased 
alacrity  the  way  of  God's  commands.  This  was  the 
light  for  which  the  Psalmist  often  prayed  in  his  dark- 
ness; this  was  the  light  for  which  he  waited  and  longed, 
when  he  said  in  the  one  hundred  and  thirtieth  psalm, 
"  My  soul  waiteth  for  the  Lord,  more  than  they  that 
watch  for  the  morning,  I  say  more  than  they  that  watch 
for  the  morning." 

But  it  is  not  merely  under  spiritual  darkness  and 
trouble  that  God  sheds  the  cheering  rays  of  divine  con- 
solation into  the  soul.  He  is  the  light  and  joy  of  his 
people,  in  outward  darkness  and  tribulation; — when 
worldly  interests  fail,  enemies  multiply,  dangers  press; 
when  friends  prove  unfaithful,  or  are  cut  off  by  death; 
when  want  or  disease  stares  them  in  the  face,  and 
troubles  of  various  kinds  gather  around  them  like  the 
sea,  and  threaten  to  swallow  them  up.  Then  it  is  that 
the  Lord  is  their  light  and  salvation,  comforting  and 
sustaining  them  by  his  word  and  his  Spirit,  and  ren- 
dering them  superior  to  every  earthly  trial. 

It  would  be  easy  to  point  you  to  examples  of  this  in 
the  history  of  his  suffering  people.  How  was  it  with 
Paul  and  his  companions  in  the  gospel  ministry? 
"They  were  troubled  on  every  side,  yet  not  distressed; 
perplexed,  but  not  in  despair;   persecuted,  but  not  for- 


god's  favour  to  the  upright.  77 

saken;  cast  down,  but  not  destroyed;  always  bearing 
about  in  the  body,  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  that 
the  life  also  of  Jesus  might  be  made  manifest  in  their 
body."  They  had  forsaken  home  and  friends,  houses 
and  lands,  and  commenced  a  pilgrimage  through  bar- 
barous nations  and  climes,  exposed  to  want  and  suf- 
fering and  peril  in  every  form;  nay  they  actually  en- 
dured the  most  distressing  privations,  and  the  most 
wanton  cruelties.  Besides  hunger  and  thirst,  cold  and 
nakedness,  they  were  publicly  beaten  with  rods,  loaded 
with  chains,  and  thrust  into  dark  and  gloomy  dungeons. 
Every  where  were  they  hated,  and  their  characters 
traduced :  they  were  treated  as  the  filth  of  the  world, 
and  the  off-scouring  of  all  things.  "  But  none  of  these 
things  moved  them;  neither  counted  they  their  lives 
dear  unto  themselves,  if  they  might  finish  their  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  they  had  received  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of 
God."  Nay,  we  are  told  that  as  their  sufferings  in- 
creased for  Christ,  so  their  consolations  abounded  by 
Christ.  They  had  an  inward  support,  which  rendered 
them  superior  to  every  outward  calamity,  and  enabled 
them  to  face  even  death  itself,  in  its  most  terrible  forms, 
without  anxiety  or  dismay.  The  consequence  was, 
that,  instead  of  fainting  under  their  accumulated  suf- 
ferings, they  counted  it  all  joy  that  they  were  deemed 
worthy  to  endure  them  for  the  name  of  Jesus.  The 
same  consolations  have  been  experienced  by  others  in 
every  age  of  the  church,  in  trials  which  they  have  suf- 
fered for  Christ's  sake,  as  well  as  under  the  more  ordi- 
nary  calamities  of  life.     But  as  often  as  this  has  hap- 


78 


GOD  S  FAVOUR  TO  THE  UPRIGHT. 


penedj  God  has  proved  himself  a  sun  to  his  people, 
chasing  away  the  darkness  of  fear  and  of  sorrow,  and 
filling  them  with  the  light  of  joy  and  peace. 

Let  me  say,  once  more,  that  God  is  a  sun  to  those 
w^ho  walk  uprightly,  inasmuch  as  he  is  the  source  of 
their  vigor,  and  enables  them  to  perform  with  prompt- 
ness and  resolution  the  duties  of  their  particular  sta- 
tions. 

How  quickly  would  the  vegetable  kingdom  languish, 
without  the  vivifying  influence  of  the  sun!  Many  of 
earth's  richest  productions  would  utterly  fail,  without 
his  warm  and  invigorating  beams.  So  in  the  moral 
and  spiritual  world,  nothing  good  flourishes  without 
the  genial  influence  of  the  moral  sun.  God  must  shine 
upon  his  people,  or  they  will  languish  and  die.  They 
have  no  strength  or  suflSciency  of  themselves,  but  all 
their  sufl[iciency  is  of  Him.  This  the  saints  of  the  Old 
Testament  well  understood,  as  also  the  apostles  under 
the  New.  Hence,  says  David,  "  I  will  love  thee,  O 
Lord,  my  strength.  The  Lord  is  my  rock  and  my  fort- 
ress, and  my  deliverer, —  my  God,  my  strength  in  whom 
I  will  trust, —  my  buckler,  and  the  horn  of  my  salva- 
tion, and  my  high  tower."  And  again,  "  It  is  God 
that  girdeth  me  with  strength,  and  maketh  my  way 
perfect.  He  maketh  my  feet  like  hind's  feet,  and  sit- 
teth  me  upon  my  high  places."  He  felt  his  entire  de- 
pendance  on  God,  to  accomplish  any  of  the  undertak- 
ings in  which  he  was  employed,  and  especially  to  per- 
form the  duties  pertaining  to  his  religious  vocation. 

The  same  was  the  case  with  Paul  and  his  brethren. 
They  acknowledged  all  their  sufficiency  to  be  of  God, 


god's  favour  to  the  upright. 


79 


and  continually  looked  to  him  for  strength  suited  to 
their  day.     They  kept  fully  in  view  the  solemn  declara- 
tion of  Christ  to  his  disciples,  "  Without  me  ye  can  do 
nothing,"  and  acting   on  this  well  known  truth,  they 
earnestly  sought  for  themselves,  and  for  their  brethren, 
strength  from  on  high,  praying  that  God  would  strength- 
en them  with  all  might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner  man 
according  to  the   exceeding   greatness  of  his  power. 
There  is  not  an  upright  man  upon  earth,  who  does  not 
feel  and  acknowledge   a  similar  dependance,  and  cry 
unto  God  for   a   supply   of  the  quickening   Spirit,  to 
strengthen,  and  sustain  him  in  his  course;  and  blessed 
be  God,  not  one  of  his  people  shall  cry  unto  him  in 
vain.     This  consoling  promise  reaches  them  all—"  They 
that  wait  upon  the  Lord,  shall  renew  their  strength— 
they  shall  mount  up   on   wings,   as  eagles;  they  shall 
run,  and  not  be  weary,  they  shall  walk  and  not  faint." 
Feeble  indeed,  sore  broken,  they  would  be,  and  never 
hold  on  their  way,  if  the  strength  of  Israel  was  not  on 
their  side.     Nay,  they  might  sit  down  in  despair,   if 
God  did  not  prevent  them  by  his  power   and  grace- 
working  in  them  to  will,  as  well  as  to  do;  and  thus 
being  beforehand  with  them,  as  the  efficient   cause  of 
their  salvation.     He  begins  the  work  of  grace  in  their 
souls,  as  a  matter  of  free   and  undeserved   favour;  he 
carries  it  on  much  in  the  same  manner,  and  has  pledged 
himself  to  bring  it  to  a  glorious  consummation.     Grace 
will  complete  what  grace  begins,  and  in  every  stage  of 
it  there  will  be  manifested  a  power  no  less  wonderful 
than  that  which  raised  up  Christ  from  the  dead,  and 
set  him  at  God's  right  hand  in  the  heavenly  places. 


80  god's  favour  to  the  upright. 

God  is  then  a  sun  to  his  people,  as  he  enlightens 
their  minds,  and  directs  their  path;  as  he  cheers  and 
comforts  them  on  their  journey,  and  as  he  sustains  and 
invigorates  their  steps.     But  the  Psalmist  tells  us, 

That  He  is  also  their  shield.  And  he  is  so  chiefly, 
as  he  is  their  defence,  from  the  numerous  enemies 
which  they  have  to  encounter.  To  Abraham,  you 
know,  God  said,  "  I  am  thy  shield,"  and  this  covenant 
language  he  still  holds  to  all  who  by  faith  are  the 
children  of  Abraham.  A  shield,  literally  speaking, 
was  a  broad  piece  of  armour,  carried  by  the  ancients? 
in  their  left  hand,  or  on  their  left  arm,  to  defend  them 
against  the  darts,  and  other  missile  weapons  of  their 
enemies.  But  when  applied  to  God,  the  term  denotes 
that  he  is  a  sure  protection  or  defence;  not  from  one 
kind  of  weapon  or  another,  but  from  every  species  of 
danger  incident  to  those  who  are  the  objects  of  his 
special  care.  Here  they  are  assailed  from  a  thousand 
causes:  they  have  enemies  without  and  enemies  with- 
in; and  these  enemies  are  as  subtle  as  they  are 
powerful.  They  fight  with  every  weapon  which 
ingenuity  or  malice  can  devise.  But  no  weapon 
formed  against  them  can  prosper.  God  himself  is  a 
broad  and  powerful  shield,  who  never  fails  to  interpose 
for  their  protection.  Evils  indeed  are  suffered  to 
arise; — but  none  which  a  faithful  God  does  not  per- 
ceive will  be  for  the  best; — none,  which  he  will  not 
eventually  overrule  for  their  good,  as  well  as  for  his 
own  glory.  From  all  ultimate  evil  they  are  absolutely 
safe;  and  this  surely  is  as  much  as  they  can  rationally 


GOD'S    FAVOUR    TO    THE    UPRIGHT.  81 

desire:  more  would  be  incompatible  with  their  highest, 
their  eternal  welfare. 

How  happy,  then,  must  they  be,  who  have  God 
both  for  their  sun  and  their  shield!  For  the  Psalmist 
adds  that  "  the  Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory;  and 
no  good  thing  will  he  withhold  from  them  that  wal5[ 
uprightly." 

He  will  give  grace;  grace  to  pardon  their  sins,  to 
subdue  their  rebellious  tempers  and  to  transform  them 
by  degrees  into  his  own  blessed  image.  He  will  give 
grace;  the  grace  of  his  paternal  benediction,  compre- 
hending in  it  all  needful  good  for  soul  and  body  in  this 
world,  with  an  exemption  from  all  evil,  not  necessary 
to  promote  their  highest  interest.  And  he  will  give 
gloryy  crowning  all  the  blessings  he  bestows  in  this 
life  with  everlasting  honour  and  felicity  in  the  next. 
Is  not  this  enough?  Are  not  our  minds  overwhelmed 
with  the  riches  of  the  divine  goodness?  Such  is  the 
plenitude  of  God's  promise  to  them  that  walk  upright- 
ly; a  promise  w^hich  the  Psalmist  received  with  un- 
wavering confidence.  And  why  cannot  we  also,  make 
it  the  ground  of  our  confidence  and  joy?  It  is  the 
same  in  substance,  with  all  those  great  and  precious 
promises,  which  God  has  made  to  his  people,  and 
which  he  has  confirmed  by  an  oath.  It  must,  and 
will,  go  into  full  effect.  Hear  it,  my  brethren,  with 
corresponding  faith  and  gratitude.  "The  Lord  God 
is  a  sun  and  shield;  the  Lord  will  give  grace  and 
glory,  and  no  good  thing  will  he  withhold  from  them 
that  walk  uprightly." 

But  though  I  wish  you  to  believe  the  promise  with 


82 

the  firmest  assurance,  I  do  not  wish  you  to  believe  it 
yours,  without  evidence.  This  would  be,  to  the  last 
degree,  irrational  and  dangerous.  For  if  you  are  not 
among  those  that  walk  uprightly,  the  Lord  God  is  no 
sun  to  you;  nor  will  he  be  your  shield.  He  has  not 
promised  to  give  you  either  grace  or  glory.  But  con- 
tinuing as  you  are,  you  are  exposed  to  be  driven  out 
of  the  earth  with  a  curse,  and  to  fall  into  everlasting 
misery. 

I  exhort  such  then,  as  are  doubtful  whether  they  are 
interested  in  this  great  and  precious  promise,  to  seek 
to  have  their  doubts  resolved,  by  ascertaining  whether 
they  are  upright 5 — upright  in  spirit  and  in  action: — 
whether  they  make  the  law  of  God,  the  rule  of  their 
conduct,  and  the  principles  it  inculcates,  the  motives 
of  their  actions. 

Dear  brethren,  let  none  of  us  be  deceived.  But  if 
you  have  the  comfort  to  know  that  you  are  included 
among  them  that  walk  uprightly, — survey  this  promise 
in  all  its  richness  and  amplitude: — think  of  it  as  reach- 
ing through  time  and  through  eternity,  and  embracing 
all  that  you  can  desire  for  both  worlds.  Lift  up  your 
eyes  to  God  continually,  as  your  sun  and  your  shield; — 
trust  in  that  mercy  and  in  that  tr^ath  which  hath  said, 
"He  will  give  grace  and  glory,  and  no  good  thing  will  he 
withhold  from  them  that  walk  uprightly."  In  every 
season  of  outward  darkness  and  trial,  let  this  promise 
be  as  an  anchor  to  your  soul — sure  and  steadfast;  for 
God,  who  hath  spoken,  can  not  lie.  No  matter  how 
dark  and  terrible  the  tempest  which  hangs  over  you,  no 
matter  how  high  the  billows  rise,  on  which  your  frail 


god's  favour  to  the  upright.  83 

bark  is  tossed, — no  earthly  power  can  swing  you  from 
your  mooring,  or  break  that  hold  which  you  have  on 
God,  the  eternal  Rock.  He  has  pledged  himself  to 
secure  and  defend  you  from  all  final  evil;  and  as  soon 
may  omnipotence  be  defeated,  or  unchangeableness 
fail,  as  any  evil  arise  which  he  will  not  overrule  for 
your  good,  or  any  good  thing  be  withheld,  which  would 
subserve  the  purpose  of  your  highest  felicity. 

But  there  are  not  a  few  present  perhaps,  who  know 
that  however  rich  and  consoling  this  promise  is  to 
others,  it  does  not  belong  to  them;  and  that  it  does 
not  belong  to  them,  because  they  do  not  belong 
to  the  upright.  Ah  I  then  my  dear  friends,  what  is 
your  relation  to  God?  You  are  the  creatures  of  his 
power,  and  the  subjects  of  his  moral  government; — and 
if  he  has  not  promised  to  be  a  sun  and  a  shield  to  you, 
what  is  the  language  which  he  holds?  Your  own 
hearts  answer.  It  is  the  language  of  threatening  and 
rebuke.  He  regards  you  as  his  enemies,  and  declares 
his  readiness,  if  you  turn  not,  utterly  to  destroy.  Oh 
be  alarmed  by  the  terrors,  be  allured  by  the  mercies 
of  God,  to  cast  in  your  lot  with  his  people  while  it  is  an 
accepted  time. 


SEEMON  IV. 


LIFE  A  PILGRDIAGE. 

A   NEW   tear's   sermon. 


GENESIS  XLVIL,  8,  9. 

"  And  Pharaoh  said  unto  Jacob,  How  old  art  thou  ?  And 
Jacob  said  unto  Pharaoh,  The  days  of  the  years  of  my  pilgrimage 
are  an  hundred  and  thirty  years :  few  and  evil  have  the  days  of 
the  years  of  my  life  been ;  and  have  not  attained  unto  the  years 
of  the  life  of  my  fathers,  in  the  days  of  their  pilgrimage.^^ 

The  patriarchs  were  distinguished  for  their  longevity. 
Abraham  died  at  the  age  of  an  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  years;  Isaac  at  the  age  of  an  hundred  and  eighty; 
and  Jacob  it  seems  was  an  hnndred  and  thirty  years  old 
when  he  was  introduced  to  Pharaoh,  and  did  not  end 
his  days  until  seventeen  years  afterwards.  And  yet 
they  all  considered  their  lives  as  a  pilgrimage;  and  that 
not  merely  nor  chiefly  because  they  were  sojourners  in 
the  land  of  Canaan,  which  was  afterwards  to  be  given 
to  their  posterity,  but  because  life  was  short  and  they 
felt  themselves  to  be  at  a  distance  from  their  inherit- 
ance on  high.  They  believed  in  another  and  better 
world, — in  a  heavenly  country,  where  their  spirits,  at  the 
end  of  their  mortal  course,  would  enter  into  rest  and 
find  a  sweet  and  everlasting  home. 


LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE.  85 

Their  condition  upon  earth  was  peculiarly  calculated 
to  remind  them  that  here  they  had  no  continuing  city. 
They  were  literally  strangers  in  the  land  in  which  they 
sojourned,  dwelling  in  tabernacles  here  and  there,  as 
their  convenience  or  safety  required.  But  it  was  the 
state  of  their  hearts  more  than  their  outward  condition, 
which  gave  to  them  the  character  of  pilgrims  and  made 
them  look  out  for  a  city  to  come, — a  city  which  hath 
foundations,  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God.  They 
were  men  of  faith, — "  and  having  seen  the  promises 
afar  off,  they  were  persuaded  of  them  and  embraced 
them,"  and  therefore  "  they  confessed  that  they  were 
strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth."  The  unseen 
things  of  another  world,  which  the  promises  reveal, 
appeared  to  them  real,  of  unspeakable  grandeur,  and  of 
endless  duration.  No  wonder  then,  that  life  should 
dwindle  to  a  span  and  that  they  should  consider  it  only 
as  a  pilgrimage  to  their  Father's  house  above. 

Jacob  who  had  been  literally  more  of  a  sojourner 
than  any  of  them,  and  whose  life  had  been  filled  up 
with  a  greater  number  of  painful  incidents,  says  to 
Pharaoh,  "  Few  and  evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of 
my  life  been;"  and  yet  he  was  then  at  the  advanced 
period  of  an  hundred  and  thirty.  We  call  a  man  old 
who  has  reached  his  fourscore  years.  But  here  was 
one  who  had  arrived  at  six  score  and  ten; — venerable 
for  his  aspect  no  doubt,  bat  with  such  care-w^orn  coun- 
tenance and  other  marks  of  years,  as  to  lead  Pharaoh  to 
suspect  that  he  was  born  in  some  distant  age,  and  to 
put  the  question,  "  How  old  art  thou?"  The  answer 
shows  that  in  some  distant  age  it  was,  and  that  he  was 


86  LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE. 

truly  a  man  of  other  times;  for  where  were  those  who 
began  the  journey  of  life  with  him?  Most  of  them,  if  not 
all,  were  slumbering  together  in  the  dust.  He  had  lived 
to  bury  a  world;  and  many  of  them  the  dearest  friends  of 
his  heart.  And  now,  when  he  looks  back  upon  life, 
long  as  it  was,  compared  with  the  measure  of  ours, 
he  could  call  it  nothing  but  a  pilgrimage  made  up  of 
a  few  days,  and  these  full  of  evil.  Not  but  that  he  had 
been  the  subject  of  many  mercies,  of  which  he  pre- 
served a  deep  and  affecting  remembrance.  The  God  of 
his  fathers,  Abraham  and  Isaac,  had  been  with  him 
and  kept  him  and  fed  him  all  his  life  long;  the  angel 
of  the  everlasting  covenant  had  redeemed  him  from 
evil;  still  he  felt  that  life  had  been  short  and  full  of 
trouble, — only  a  painful  journey  to  that  heavenly  coun- 
try, which  he  had  in  prospect,  and  where  alone  he  ex- 
pected to  find  a  true  and  satisfying  rest. 

The  question  put  to  him  by  Pharaoh,  "  How  old  art 
thou?"  naturally  sent  his  thoughts  through  all  the 
various  stages  of  life,  and  brought  up  many  a  distress- 
ing incident  which  had  embittered  the  days  of  his  pil- 
grimage. He  could  not  forget  his  troubles  with  Esau, 
while  in  his  father's  house;  the  long  and  painful  exile 
which  those  troubles  occasioned  while  he  sojourned 
with  Laban  at  Padan-Aram,  where,  for  more  than 
twenty  years  he  was  subjected  to  the  greatest  hard- 
ships in  contending  with  the  avarice  and  injustice  of 
that  unprincipled  man.  There  the  drought  consumed 
by  day,  and  the  frost  withered  by  night.  He  could 
not  forget  the  fears  and  alarms  which  attended  him  on 
his  return   from  that  country,  both  when  pursued  by 


LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE.  87 

Laban  and  when  met  by  Esau.  These  were  occur- 
rences of  so  striking  and  eventful  a  character,  as  never 
to  be  erased  from  his  mind.  To  say  nothing  of  the 
contentions  and  vexations  within  the  circle  of  his  own 
family,  which  must  have  grieved  and  distressed  such  a 
heart  as  Jacob's,  how^  was  his  soul  pierced  at  the  con- 
duct of  Simeon  and  Levi,  who  w^ere  guilty  of  the  basest 
treachery  and  cruelty  towards  the  Shechemites!  How 
must  he  have  wept  over  Reuben,  over  Judah,  and  others 
in  his  family,  whose  immoral  conduct  was  like  a  dagger 
in  his  heart! 

The  early  death  of  his  beloved  Rachel,  the  unutter- 
able anguish  of  his  soul  in  the  supposed  death  of 
Joseph,  with  his  trial  at  parting  with  Benjamin  and 
Simeon,  were  events  which  Jacob  could  never  forget, 
and  which  served,  with  innumerable  other  circumstances 
common  to  our  suffering  nature,  to  characterize  his 
days  as  evil.  But  after  all,  w  ho  w^ould  not  like  to  come 
to  the  close  of  his  pilgrimage  with  as  pleasing  a  retro- 
spect, and  with  as  bright  hopes,  as  the  good  old  Patriarch 
enjoyed  ?  Methinks  I  see  him  standing  before  Pharaoh, 
with  locks  silvered  over  with  age,  and  leaning  upon 
the  top  of  his  staff:  bearing  the  marks  of  more  than 
a  hundred  winters,  and  as  many  summers;  but  still  his 
spirit  is  strong  within  him.  He  recollects  the  sufferings 
and  dangers  through  which  he  has  passed,  and  how  the 
God  of  almighty  power  and  everlasting  mercy,  by  his 
watchful  and  gracious  providence,  has  sustained  him 
and  brought  him  well  nigh  to  the  close  of  his  journey. 
He  has  come  down  into  Egypt  at  the  call  of  God,  by 
whose   immediate   inspiration   he   was   directed,   and 


LIFE    A   PILGRIMAGE. 


doubts  not,  that  the  same  almighty  Being  will  bring  him 
up  again,  with  an  increased  household,  at  the  appointed 
time.  He  sees  that  the  hour  is  at  hand,  when  he  shall 
go  the  way  of  all  the  earth;  but  he  believes  that  while 
his  body  shall  sleep  with  his  fathers,  in  the  cave  of 
Machpelah,  his  spirit  will  join  their  spirits,  in  the  city 
of  God,  which  is  above.  His  faith  is  of  too  strong 
and  special  a  character  to  admit  of  any  doubts;  his  vir- 
tues have  been  too  well  tried  to  throw  any  shade  over 
his  future  prospects.  He  is  a  saint  of  the  Lord,  draw- 
ing near  to  the  end  of  his  course,  and  soon  to  receive 
the  crown  of  righteousness,  the  palm  of  victory. 
Can  a  more  venerable  or  soul-inspiring  object  be  pre- 
sented to  our  attention?  Who  would  not  desire  to  be 
a  pilgrim  like  him,  whether  his  days  shall  be  few 
or  many;  and  to  come  at  last  to  the  end  of  his 
journey,  with  equal  marks  of  the  divine  approbation, 
and  w^ith  as  fair  a  prospect  of  the  heavenly  inheritance? 
But  can  this  be,  my  brethren,  without  a  deep  and  affect- 
ing remembrance  that  this  life  is  only  a  pilgrimage? 
Can  this  be  without  cordially  embracing  the  promises, 
and  really  seeking  that  better  country,  which  the 
promises  disclose? 

1.  Let  us  then,  (while  we  are  entering  upon  the  new 
year),  summon  our  attention  to  some  of  the  facts  and 
circumstances  which  remind  us  that  this  life  is  but  a 
pilgrimage.  I  say  remind  us,  because  none  of  us  will 
have  the  folly  to  pretend  that  we  have  already  reached 
a  settled  and  permanent  abode.  Adopt  what  creed 
we  may  concerning  futurity,  there  can  be  no  dis- 
pute about  our  stay  in  this  world.     Every  man  knows 


LIFE   A    PILGRIMAGE.  89 

that  he  is  the  certain  heir  of  mortality;  that  if  neither 
disease  nor  accident  cut  him  off,  the  silent  stream  of  time 
will  soon  bear  him  away.  The  fate  of  all  preced- 
ing generations  forever  settles  the  question  that  after 
the  succession  of  a  few  short  years  at  most,  he  must 
close  his  eyes  upon  these  heavens,  and  this  earth,  to 
lie  down  in  the  dust.  What  then  is  he  now  but  a 
stranger,  and  sojourner  upon  the  earth,  as  all  his  fathers 
were?  But  there  are  various  facts  and  circumstances 
calculated  to  remind  us  of  this  passing  state  of  thino-s. 
Whatever  indicates  to  us  the  progress  of  time,  is  a 
solemn  memento  that  we  are  hastening  to  our  end.  Our 
bounds  are  set  that  we  cannot  pass.  The  whole  of  our 
mortal  existence  is  embraced  in  the  compass  of  a  few 
short  years,  diminishing  constantly,  as  the  wheels  of 
time  go  round.  Every  rising  and  setting  sun  proclaims 
with  mighty  voice  that  our  days  are  numbering,  and 
will  soon  be  gone.  Each  returning  season,  and  es- 
pecially the  close  of  the  revolving  year,  holds  a  lan- 
guage on  this  subject  of  deep  and  awfully  monitory 
import.  If  the  clock  strike,  it  is  to  tell  us  mortals 
that  another  hour  has  passed  never  to  return;  and  even 
the  pendulum  vibrating  seconds  gives  us  warning  that 
time  is  ever  flowing  on,  and  as  it  flows  bears  us  on- 
ward to  the  ocean  of  eternity. 

What  is  the  growth  of  plants,  of  trees,  of  animals, 
together  with  their  decay,  but  a  silent  monitor  of  the 
progress  we  are  making  in  life's  journey,  and  of  the 
certainty  of  its  termination?  Look  which  way  we 
will,  and  some  object  meets  us  which  tells  us  of  our 
departure  from  this  world.  The  fleeting  clouds,  the 
9 


90  LIFE    A   PILGRIMAGE* 

changing  face  of  the  sky,  the  falling  meteor,  the  ever 
variable  winds,  the  storm  that  rushes  and  the  bright 
sunshine  that  follows,  day  and  night,  cold  and  heat, 
summer  and  winter,  seed  time  and  harvest, — nay  the 
whole  aspect  of  nature,  reads  a  solemn  lesson  to  us 
upon  our  mutable  condition,  and  reminds  us  that  the 
time  of  our  departure  is  at  hand. 

Nor  do  the  changes  in  ourselves,  whether  in  body  or 
mind,  address  us  in  terms  less  striking  and  prophetic. 
Are  we  ripening  into  vigour,  or  sinking  into  decline? 
The  warning  is  substantially  the  same:  it  tells  us  that 
every  thing  is  moving  forward  w^ith  the  strong  and  ir- 
resistible march  of  time.  True  it  is  that  marks  of 
decay  speak  with  a  louder  voice,  and  the  greater  will 
be  our  madness  not  to  take  the  warning,  when  given 
by  the  grey  hairs  which  are  here  and  there  upon  us; 
by  the  furrowed  visage,  the  faltering  accent,  the  tardy, 
feeble,  uncertain  step,  wuth  their  usual  concomitants, 
dimness  of  sight,  feebleness  of  spirits,  and  other  bodily 
and  mental  infirmities.  For  what  are  all  these  things 
but  precursors  of  our  end; — changes  of  the  most  omi- 
nous character,  giving  assurance  that  the  earthly  house 
of  this  our  tabernacle  wnll  shortly  be  dissolved. 

But,  after  all,  nothing  perhaps  strikes  us  so  much  as 
the  changes  which  take  place  in  society.  How  affect- 
ing are  the  changes  that  occur  within  a  single  year; 
but  add  a  few  years  together,  and  what  a  mighty  revo- 
lution is  seen,  strongly  indicative  of  the  progress  of 
time,  and  the  certain  and  amazing  results  which  it  is 
destined  to  produce. 


LIFE    A    PILGRIMAGE.  91 

Where  are  the  children  which  a  few  years  since 
were  seen  sporting  in  these  streets?  They  are  grown 
to  manhood,  and  their  sports  have  given  place  to  the 
never  ceasing  cares  and  toils  of  life.  They  have  be- 
come heads  of  families,  parents  of  other  children,  fast 
ripening  into  maturity.  Where  are  the  men  of  busi- 
ness, who,  but  a  little  w^hile  ago,  took  the  lead  in  the 
various  branches  of  human  occupation?  Some  have 
been  removed  by  death;  and  others,  w^orn  out  with 
labors  or  w^ithering  under  the  blight  of  time,  have  re- 
tired from  the  bustle  of  the  world,  as  unequal  to  their 
former  tasks,  and  are  gradually  sinking  into  that  obli- 
vion which  the  grave,  the  land  of  forgetfulness,  wull 
soon  complete.  Where  are  the  old  men,  whose  heads 
blossoming  like  the  almond  tree,  used  to  whiten  our  as- 
semblies, and  give  a  venerable  aspect  to  our  devotions? 
The  dark  and  silent  tomb  hides  them  almost  all.  Look 
around  you,  my  dear  brethren — Is  this  the  congrega- 
tion that  first  united  for  the  worship  of  God  in  this 
place,  and  dedicated  this  house  to  the  Lord?  Some  of 
them  indeed  still  remain,  but  for  the  most  part,  it  is 
a  new  generation,  succeeded  to  the  inheritance  of 
their  fathers.  What  is  the  language  of  these  affecting 
changes?  Is  it  not,  0  man,  that  thou  art  a  pilgrim; 
hastening  away  from  this  earthly  scene?  A  few  years 
more,  and  another  will  take  thy  place  in  the  house  of 
God,  in  the  workshop,  in  the  field,  or  w^heresoever 
thou  hast  laboured  or  enjoyed,  and  thou  thyself  wilt 
have  gone  to  thine  everlasting  home. 

But  there  are  other  changes  w^hich  make  a  stronger 
appeal  to  our  hearts.     Was  there  a  time  when  I  could 


92  LIFE    A    PILGRIMAGE. 

say  "  my  father,"  or  "ray  mother," — and  has  that  time 
ceased?  when  I  could  say  my  brother,  or  my  sister  or 
my  child — and  are  these  relations  dissolved?  Have  I 
lost  my  companion  by  the  way,  as  Jacob  did  Rachel, 
a  little  before  he  came  to  Ephrath,  a  circumstance 
which  he  mentions  with  the  utmost  tenderness  just 
before  his  death?  How  hard  must  be  my  heart,  and 
how  blunted  all  my  powers  of  perception,  if  1  am  not 
awake  to  the  consideration  of  my  frailty,  and  do  not 
bear  about  with  me  a  lively  remembrance  that  life  is 
only  a  pilgrimage! 

But  is  it  enough  that  I  keep  this  momentous  fact 
constantly  in  view?  What  is  the  end  to  be  attained 
by  a  deep  and  thorough  conviction  that  I  am  but  a 
stranger  and  sojourner  upon  earth?  Is  it  not  that  my 
affections  may  be  taken  off  from  this  world,  and  set 
upon  that  better  country,  which  Abraham,  Isaac  and 
Jacob  sought,  and  towards  w^hich  they  journeyed  in 
the  days  of  their  pilgrimage?  Is  it  not  that  in  a  cor- 
dial belief  of  the  promises,  I  may  become  a  pilgrim  too, 
and  bend  my  footsteps  towards  that  heavenly  land 
which  the  promises  disclose?  Surely  nothing  short  of 
this  will  bring  me  to  the  end  of  my  journey  in  peace, 
or  give  me  an  entrance  into  that  rest  which  remaineth 
for  the  people  of  God. 

But  w^hat  are  w^e  to  understand  by  a  cordial  belief 
of  the  promises,  and  how  do  they  who  believe  them 
become  pilgrims,  in  relation  to  the  heavenly  country? 
The  promises  to  which  I  refer,  are  the  promises  of 
God's  mercy  made  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  in  him,  yea 
and  amen,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father; — the  pro- 


LIFE    A    PILGRIMAGE. 


93 


mises  of  God's  rich  and  everlasting  covenant,  estab- 
lished with  all  true  believers,  and  which  contain  in 
them  all  the  good  that  the  believer  can  desire,  for  time 
or  eternity.  They  secure  to  him  as  firmly  as  the  word 
and  oath  of  God^can  do,  pardon  of  sin,  sanctification  of 
heart,  as  much  of  this  world's  good  as  is  best  for  him, 
and  everlasting  life  and  felicity  in  the  world  which  is 
to  come.  He  that  said  to  Abraham,  "  I  am  thy  God, 
I  am  thy  shield,  and  thine  exceeding  great  reward," 
makes  the  same  promise  virtually  to  every  true  be- 
liever; and  if  God  was  not  ashamed  to  be  called  the 
God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  because,  though 
pilgrims,  he  had  prepared  for  them  a  city,  neither  is 
he  ashamed  to  be  called  the  God  of  those  who  have 
like  precious  faith,  at  the  present  time,  seeing  he  has 
prepared  for  them  a  city  also, — a  glorious  city,  whose 
light  is  seen  from  afar,  and  whose  splendours  will  con- 
tinue to  brighten,  when  stars  and  suns  shall  be  swept 
away. 

But  what  is  it  to  have  like  precious  faith  with  the 
patriarchs,  or  a  cordial  belief  of  the  promises? 

It  certainly  supposes  that  we  fully  accredit  the  truth 
of  the  promises,  in  all  their  fulness  and  variety, — that 
we  hear  Jehovah  himself  speak  in  thein,  and  entertain 
no  doubt  that  all  the  blessings  they  comprise  will  be 
bestowed  upon  those  who  believe.  This  is  what  the 
Apostle  means  by  being  "persuaded  of  them;"  and  it 
is  a  persuasion  so  full  and  perfect  as  to  make  the  objects 
of  the  promises  appear  real,  and  to  impress  the  mind, 
in  some  good  measure,  as  if  they  were  seen  by  the  eye 
of  sense.  And  hence  it  is  that  he  describes  faith  as 
*9 


94  LIFE    A    PILGRIMAGE. 

the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of 
things  not  seen, — that  is,  as  giving  substance  to  the 
objects  which  it  contemplates,  and  an  undoubting  as- 
surance or  confidence  of  their  reality. 

But  though  this  persuasion  of  the  truth  of  the  prom- 
ises is  one  thing  implied  in  a  cordial  belief  of  them,  it 
is  not  the  whole  that  is  implied.  To  this  must  be  added 
an  actual  embracing  of  them,  choosing  the  blessings 
which  they  offer,  and  relying  upon  the  divine  faithful- 
ness for  their  accomplishment. 

Many  read  or  hear  the  promises,  and  have  some 
understanding  of  the  blessings  they  contain,  but  have 
no  direct  or  prevalent  desire  to  inherit  them.  Many 
are  brought  to  consider  them  as  the  promises  of  God, 
and  of  course  entertain  no  speculative  doubts  as  to  the 
certainty  of  their  fulfilment, — still  they  do  not  regard 
them  as  proffering  blessings  to  themselves,  nor  do  they 
actually  avail  themselves  of  them.  The  veil  of  un- 
belief is  still  upon  their  hearts,  so  that  they  neither  dis- 
cern the  glory  of  Him  who  promises,  nor  those  rich 
and  everlasting  blessings  which  he  freely  proposes,  and 
offers  to  secure.  It  is  otherwise  with  him  who  cordially 
believes.  He  discerns  the  transcendent  excellence  and 
glory  of  God,  who  is  in  a  great  degree,  the  object  as 
well  as  the  author  of  the  promises.  He  sees  that  the 
promises  contain  the  very  blessings  which  he  needs, 
and  which,  from  his  inmost  soul,  he  desires  to  possess. 
He  sees  that  these  blessings  are  freely  offered  to  all  who 
will  accept  them,  and  upon  the  condition  of  a  bare  ac- 
ceptance. With  humble  confidence,  therefore,  he  em- 
braces the  oflfer; — and  takes  the  word  of  Jehovah  for 


LIFE   A  PILGRIMAGE.  95 

security  that  the  promised  mercy  shall  surely  be  per- 
formed. In  this  way  he  begins,  when  he  is  first  per- 
suaded of  the  promises,  and  embraces  them;  and  in 
this  way  he  continues  afterwards,  while,  as  a  pilgrim, 
he  is  prosecuting  his  journey  towards  Heaven.  He 
lives  upon  the  word  of  God,  and  is  kept  steadfast  in  his 
course,  by  the  very  same  faith,  which,  at  first,  brought 
him  into  it. 

Now  if  you  inquire  how  they  who  believe  the 
promises,  become  pilgrims  in  relation  to  the  Heavenly 
country; — it  will  not  be  difficult  to  answer.  It  is  by 
faith  that  they  are  brought  into  the  way  which  leads 
to  that  better  country,  and  that  they  commence  their 
journey  thither.  It  is  by  faith  that  they  become  citizens 
or  heirs  of  that  country:  their  belief  in  the  promises 
entitles  them  to  an  eternal  residence  in  it,  and  consti- 
tutes it  their  true  and  proper  home.  It  is  by  faith  that 
they  are  led  to  seek  it,  and  to  seek  it  with  such  earnest- 
ness as  to  make  all  other  pursuits  subordinate  to  this. 
Faith  gives  them  the  feelings  of  strangers  and  pilgrims 
in  this  world.  It  makes  life  appear  short,  and  its  en- 
joyments w^orthless,  compared  with  those  pure  and  eter- 
nal joys  which  are  in  reserve  for  them  in  the  skies.  In 
short,  the  life  of  the  heavenly  pilgrim  is  begun,  and 
carried  on  in  faith,  and  is  perfected  in  the  same  manner. 
It  is  from  first  to  last,  the  grand  spring  of  action  with 
him.  Is  he  beset  by  cares,  or  encompassed  by  afflic- 
tions? Faith  dissolves  the  perplexity  which  arises 
from  the  one,  and  gives  strength  to  his  fainting  heart, 
under  the  other.  Do  enemies  assail,  or  pleasures  allure? 
Faith  in  God,  and  in  another  and  eternal  world,  enables 


96         ■  LIFE    A   PILGRIMAGE. 

him  to  rise  superior  to  both.  Is  he  weak?  Faith  in- 
vigorates him.  Is  he  negligent,  or  tardy  in  his  course? 
Faith  carries  him  forward.  Is  he  tempted  sometimes 
to  sit  down  discouraged,  because  of  the  length  of  the 
way;  as  were  the  Israelites  on  their  journey  through 
the  wilderness  to  Canaan?  Faith  draws  the  veil,  and 
lets  hito  see,  as  from  Pisgah,  the  "  good  land  beyond 
Jordan,  that  goodly  mountain,  and  Lebanon,"  and  con- 
vinces him  that  it  is  but  a  step  or  two  thither. 

But  what  sort  of  faith  is  this,  my  brethren?  Not  that 
cold  and  dead  faith  which  satisfies  too  many  a  pro- 
fessor;— not  that  half  formed  persuasion  of  divine 
truth,  which  leaves  a  slumbering  world  still  to  slumber 
in  their  sins.  No,  it  is  a  deep  and  powerful  principle 
of  the  mind,  a  principle  which  actuates  the  judgment, 
at  the  same  time  that  it  sends  a  sweet  and  efficacious 
influence  through  the  heart.  It  is  a  faith  that  works 
by  love,  and  love  of  so  pure  and  decisive  a  character 
as  to  issue  in  a  sincere  obedience  to  the  divine  will. 
Such  we  know  was  the  faith  of  Abraham  as  well  as 
of  Isaac  and  Jacob,  who  were  heirs  with  him  of  the 
same  promises.  "Without  a  faith  of  this  living,  opera- 
tive kind,  they  would  never  have  commenced  a  pilgrim- 
age to  the  heavenly  land ;  nor  would  they  have  held 
on  through  the  many  trials  and  dangers  which  beset 
them  in  the  \vay.  Without  a  faith  of  the  same  exalted 
character,  ice  shall  never  become  pilgrims,  in  reference 
to  the  heavenly  country,  nor  arrive  at  that  city  that 
hath  foundations,  whither  their  believing  spirits  have 
already  gone.  We  may  deceive  ourselves,  and  thou- 
sands no  doubt  are  thus  deceived.     We  may  think  that 


LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE.  97 

after  all  we  have  heard  of  Heaven's  eternal  rest  and  the 
means  that  have  been  used  with  us  to  excite  us  to  seek 
it,  we  can  hardly  fail  of  reaching  it  at  last.  But  none 
but  those  who  are  fully  persuaded  of  the  promises,  and 
actually  embrace  them,  will  ever  enter  into  it.  This  is 
the  only  way  which  leads  to  that  blessed  world, — the 
only  way  which  pilgrims  have  trodden  from  the  begin- 
ning. It  commences  with  living  faith  and  finishes  with 
that  faith.  It  is  eminently  the  way  of  humility  and 
dependance  upon  God;  the  way  of  obedience,  and 
consequently  the  way  of  holiness;  the  way  of  self  denial 
and  mortification  to  the  world.  But  still  it  is  a  safe 
way;  it  leads  to  no  dangerous  snares  and  pit-falls,  but 
is  sure  to  conduct  every  traveller  to  a  peaceful  and 
eternal  home  at  last. 

Shall  I  ask,  in  conclusion,  whether  we  are  travelling 
in  this  way?  Have  we,  my  dear  brethren,  really 
commenced  this  pilgrimage  to  the  heavenly  country? 
When  did  we  commence  it?  And  what  proofs  have  we 
given  to  ourselves  or  to  others  that  we  are  pilgrims 
indeed — pilgrims  [  mean,  whose  faces  are  set  towards 
Zion's  everlasting  hills?  Do  we  feel  and  act  like  pil- 
grims? Does  life  appear  short  and  uncertain;  and  all 
its  enjoyments  too  poor  and  transient  to  engage  our 
affections?  Have  we  bidden  the  world  adieu,  as  our 
portion?  Are  w^e  continually  inclined  to  say  of  it, 
"  this  is  not  my  rest?"  Do  we  buy  as  though  we  pos- 
sessed not,  and  rejoice  as  though  we  rejoiced  not,  and 
mourn  as  though  we  wept  not?  and  all  this  because  the 
fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away?  Has  faith,  through 
the  medium  of  the  word,  discovered  to  us  the  unseen 


98 


LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE. 


things  of  eternity?  Has  it  brought  those  things  near, 
and  given  them  such  a  reality  and  importance  to  our 
minds  as  to  make  every  thing  on  earth  dwindle  into 
insignificance?  Have  we,  in  short,  embraced  the  pro- 
mises? Do  we  live  as  the  humble  and  joyful  expect- 
ants of  that  glorious  inheritance  which  they  reveal? 
Then  our  eyes  will  be  turned  upwards.  Then  our  con- 
versation will  be  in  Heaven,  and  our  affections  also  will 
be  there.  Then  we  shall  shape  our  course  through  the 
world  with  a  constant  and  ultimate  reference  to  our 
eternal  abode.  Night  and  day  shall  we  pursue  our 
spiritual  journey,  and  count  those  events  happiest  which 
speed  us  on  the  way  and  ripen  us  for  admission  into 
our  Father's  house  above. 

But  what,  my  dear  friends,  if  this  is  not  our  case? 
What  if  it  be  true  that  we  have  never  yet  commenced 
a  pilgrimage  towards  Heaven?  Then,  alas!  we  are 
on  a  pilgrimage  to  Hell.  There  is  no  other  alterna- 
tive, taking  the  word  of  God  as  the  rule  of  our  judg- 
ment. Our  journey  through  life  is  short,  but  conducts 
to  one  of  those  two  worlds  eternal,  where  all  men  shall 
soon  take  up  their  final  abode.  They  who  are  not 
travelling  towards  Heaven,  must  of  necessity  be  tra- 
velling, and  with  all  the  speed  which  the  wings 
of  time  can  give,  towards  a  very  different  world.  And 
how^  affecting  is  it  to  think  of  the  numbers  who  are 
manifestly  sauntering  along  this  dangerous  way !  More 
affecting  still  to  see  them  hold  on  their  course  with  an 
obstinacy  which  no  expostulations  from  God  or  man 
seem  sufhcient  to  restrain.  But  what  shall  be  done? 
Shall  we  permit  them  to  pursue  this  fearful  journey 


LIFE  A  PILGRIMAGE.  99 

without  lifting  up  the  voice  of  remonstrance,  and 
warning  them  of  the  danger  which  awaits  them?  O 
ye  strangers  and  sojourners  upon  earth,  ye  travellers  to 
eternity,  will  ye  not  for  once,  listen  to  the  plaintive 
call  of  wisdom?  Do  ye  not  perceive  that  you  are  in 
the  broad  way  to  death;  that  the  course  you  are  pur- 
suing will  soon  land  you  in  the  place  of  everlasting 
sorrows?  You  are  as  yet  impenitent,  and  Christless: 
you  have  no  meetness  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints 
in  light,  and  can  not  be  admitted  to  that  blessed  world, 
without  a  deep  and  radical  change  of  character.  If 
death  overtake  you  as  you  are, — (and  he  may  overtake 
you  at  any  moment,)  you  will  sink  to  the  world  of  un- 
utterable anguish.  Why  then  not  awake?  The  voice 
of  divine  mercy  calls  you;  your  own  eternal  interests 
demand  your  attention.  You  have  escaped  the  shafts 
of  death  another  year,  while  many  of  your  acquaint- 
ance and  some  who  bore  the  tenderest  relation  to  you 
have  fallen  victims  to  his  power.  But  who  knows 
what  is  to  befal  you  in  the  year  which  you  have  be- 
gun? Every  thing  future  is  shrouded  in  darkness. 
We  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  This  very 
morning,  I  have  been  called  to  stand  by  the  dying  bed 
of  another  fellow  mortal,  who  is  called  away  in  the 
morning  of  life,  and  almost  w^ithout  any  previous 
warning.  Oh  who  can  tell  in  respect  to  himself  what 
shall  be  on  the  morrow! 

Shall  I  drop  a  word  to  those  who  trust  that  they  are 
on  a  pilgrimage  to  Heaven?  You  too  have  come  to 
the  close  of  another  year.  Who  knows  but  that  you 
may  be  called  to  pass  the  cold  stream  of  death  before 


100  LIFE    A   PILGRIMAGE. 

this  year  is  ended;  yes,  before  the  sun  has  half  mea- 
sured his  annual  course,  you  may  be  called  to  place 
your  feet  on  the  shores  of  the  heavenly  rest;  to  be- 
come denizens  of  that  city  whither  Abraham,  Isaac 
and  Jacob  are  gone;  whither  the  prophets  and  apos- 
tles and  Jesus  Christ  their  Lord  and  yours,  have  as- 
cended; and  where  all  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  per- 
fect, are  assembled  in  one  glorified  community.  What 
manner  of  persons  then,  dear  brethren,  ought  you  to 
be  in  all  holy  conversation  and  godliness. 


SERMON  V. 


THE  RICH  FOOL. 


LUKE  XII.,  20. 

"  But  God  said  unto  him,  Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall 
be  required  of  thee ;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be,  ivhich  thou 
hast  provided  T^ 

Never  was  the  folly  of  a  worldly  spirit  portrayed  in 
stronger  colours  than  in  the  parable  before  us.  One 
had  said  to  our  Lord,  while  he  w^as  discoursing  upon 
the  danger  of  denying  him  before  men  and  blaspheming 
against  the  Holy  Ghost — "  Master,  speak  to  my  brother, 
that  he  divide  the  inheritance  with  me."  To  this  un- 
seasonable request,  Jesus  returns  this  answer, — *'  Man, 
who  made  me  a  judge  or  divider  over  you?"  As  if  he 
had  said,  I  came  not  into  the  world  to  settle  men's  dis- 
putes about  their  worldly  estates.  I  had  an  infinitely 
more  important  errand; — I  came  to  save  their  immortal 
souls,  which  they  are  in  danger  of  sacrificing  to  a  spirit 
of  covetousness  and  worldly  mindedness.  "  Take  heed, 
therefore,  and  beware  of  covetousness:  for  a  man's  life 
consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he 
possesseth." 
.  To  give  the  more  eflfect  to  this  seasonable  and  neces- 
^  sary  caution,  he  relates  the  short  and  striking  parable 
10 


102  THE  RICH  FOOL. 

from  which  our  text  is  taken.  "  The  ground  of  a  cer- 
tain rich  man  brought  forth  plentifully:  and  he  thought 
within  himself  saying,  What  shall  I  do,  because  I  have 
no  room  where  to  bestow  my  fruits?  and  he  said,  this 
wall  I  do;  I  will  pull  down  my  barns  and  build  greater; 
and  there  will  I  bestow  all  my  fruits  and  my  goods;  and 
I  will  say  to  my  soul.  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid 
up  for  many  years,  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink  and  be 
merry.  But  God  said  unto  him.  Thou  fool,  this  night 
thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee;  then  whose  shall 
those  things  be,  which  thou  hast  provided?  So  is  he" 
(adds  the  Saviour)  "who  layeth  up  treasure  for  him- 
self, and  is  not  rich  towards  God." 

There  is  none,  my  dear  brethren,  who  can  describe 
the  heart  of  man  like  him  who  made  that  heart.  There 
is  none  whose  faithful  admonitions  so  much  deserve  our 
regard,  as  his  who  came  into  the  world  on  purpose  to 
instruct  us  and  die  for  us.  He  has  a  perfect  knowledge 
of  our  case  and  the  most  disinterested  regard  to  our 
welfare.  V\^e  can  neither  doubt  the  correctness  of  his 
statements,  nor  the  benevolence  of  his  views.  Let  us 
then,  for  a  moment,  attend  to  his  account  of  the  rich 
worldling  in  the  parable,  whose  fate  and  character  are 
both  comprehended  in  these  awfully  impressive  words — 
"Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of 
thee;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be,  which  thou  hast 
provided  ?" 

I  bespeak  your  more  earnest  attention  to  this  subject 
because  it  cannot  be  questioned  that  there  are  many 
among  us  who  are  acting  the  foolish  part  of  this  man, 
while  others,    though  not   wholly  swallowed  up  by  a 


THE  RICH  FOOL.  JOS 

worldly  spirit,  are  yet  treacling  so  closely  in  his  steps 
as  greatly  to  retard  and  embarrass,  if  not  absolutely  to 
prevent  the  work  of  their  salvation. 

It  is  a  day,  my  dear  brethren,  of  awful  declension 
with  us — a  day  when  the  love  of  the  world  has  become 
strangely  predominant,  and  the  cry  of  many  hearts 
is,  "  Give,  give,  and  say  not  it  is  enough." 

But  let  us  hear  our  Lord's  account  of  the  rich  world- 
ling in  the  parable. 

I.  In  the  midst  of  his  prosperity,  he  was  unthankful. 
God  had  endowed  him  with  wealth,  and  thus  raised 
him  above  that  humble  and  painful  state  of  dependance 
to  which  multitudes  are  subjected.  A  blessing  de- 
scended upon  the  labour  of  his  hands,  and  his  ground 
brought  forth  plentifully,  so  that  he  had  not  room  where 
to  bestow  his  fruits.  Here  was  an  opportunity  for 
gratitude.  Here  he  ought  to  have  lifted  up  his  heart 
to  God,  in  humble  and  grateful  acknowledgements,  for 
the  favours  thus  liberally  bestowed.  But  God  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  in  all  his  thoughts.  His  only 
concern  was  how  to  secure  and  to  augment  his  abun- 
dance; regardless  of  the  hand  from  which  it  came,  and 
of  the  obligations  which  the  beneficence  of  that  hand 
had  conferred. 

Who  does  not  see  that  this  is  too  common  a  case, 
among  those  on  whom  God  has  bestowed  the  riches  of 
this  world?  The  more  they  are  indebted  to  their  great 
Benefactor,  the  more  do  they  forget  him.  The  more  he 
causes  their  cup  to  run  over  with  his  bounty,  the  more 
presumptuous,  hardened  and  ungrateful  they  appear. 
This  is  so  plainly  and  undeniably  the  case,  that  if  a 


104  THE    RICH    FOOL. 

man  were  to  ask  us,  *  Where  shall  I  find  the  best  friends 
of  my  God?  Where  shall  I  find  the  heart  that  glows 
wnth  the  warmest  sensibility  for  the  common  blessings 
of  divine  providence?' — we  must,  for  the  most  part, 
direct  him  to  the  humble  dwellings  of  the  poor,  and 
often  to  those  who  subsist  upon  the  slender  charity  of 
their  fellow  men.  Read  what  Asaph  has  said  of  the 
rich,  in  the  seventy  third  psalm — "  Their  eyes  stand 
out  w^ith  fatness,  they  have  more  than  heart  can  wash; 
they  set  their  mouth  against  the  Heavens,  and  their 
tongue  walketh  through  the  earth;  they  say,  how  doth 
God  know?  and  is  there  knowledge  in  the  Most  High? 
Behold  these  are  the  ungodly  who  prosper  in  the 
world;  they  increase  in  riches."  We  know  there  are 
some  happy  exceptions  to  this  case.  We  know  there 
are  those  who,  though  rich  in  this  world,  are  rich  in 
faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom.  But  it  too  often 
happens  that  men  who  increase  in  wealth,  increase  in 
pride  and  self-sufficiency,  and  forget  their  dependance 
on  God.  Such,  at  least,  was  the  fact  w^ith  respect  to 
the  rich  man  in  the  parable. 

II.  But  let  us  take  a  nearer  view  of  his  character. 
His  grounds  brought  forth  plentifully.  God  pours 
abundance  into  his  hands.  Does  he  not  begin  to  think 
w^ithin  himself,  to  what  purpose  this  bounty  should  be 
appropriated;  what  deeds  of  charity  he  is  called  upon 
to  perform!  Perhaps  he  intends  to  be  the  father  of  the 
poor,  and  to  make  the  widow's  and  orphan's  heart  sing 
for  joy.  Perhaps  he  meditates  deeds  of  benevolence 
w^hich  shall  immortalize  his  name  on  earth,  and  lay  up 
in  store  a  good  foundation  against  the  time   to   come. 


THE    RICH    FOOL.  105 

Far  otherwise.  His  selfish  heart  is  occupied  only  with 
selfish  and  earthly  things.  He  cares  not  for  the  cries 
and  sufferings  of  the  poor.  If  others  choose  to  be  eyes 
to  the  blind,  and  feet  to  the  lame,  be  it  so:  he  neither 
covets  their  work,  nor  their  reward.  His  soul  is  bent 
on  another  purpose,  and  his  heart  filled  with  other 
things.  He  "  thinks  within  himself" — but  what  does 
he  think?  He  thinks  only  of  room  where  to  bestow 
his  fruits  and  his  goods!  All  his  thoughts  turn  upon 
the  low  and  grovelling  purpose  of  increasing  his 
wealth,  and  providing  the  means  of  voluptuous  enjoy- 
ment, in  the  future.  He  does  not  seem  to  know  that 
he  has  an  eternity  to  provide  for.  He  talks  of  his  soul 
indeed,  but  not  of  its  future  and  immortal  destiny.  All 
his  attention  is  confined  to  the  present  life,  and  to  those 
sensual  and  short  lived  enjoyments,  which  must  soon 
pass  away.  On  these  his  eager  imagination  seems  to 
dw^ell. 

III.  But  mark,  my  dear  friends,  they  are  to  him  still 
future.  Much  as  he  loves  the  world,  and  much  as  he 
possesses  of  it,  all  his  enjoyment  is  in  prospect.  He 
has  not  yet  reached  the  period  in  which  he  can  say, 
"  Soul,  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink  and  be  merry." 
Nor  does  he  know  any  satisfaction  in  a  moderate  par- 
ticipation of  the  abundance  which  he  possesses.  An 
insatiable  desire  to  hoard  up,  and  to  rise  to  a  state  of 
independence,  is  paramount  to  every  other  object. 
Thus  his  foolish  heart  postpones  the  certain  enjoyment 
of  the  present,  for  the  precarious  and  excessive  in- 
dulgence of  the  future.  He  deceives  himself  by  ima- 
gining that  time  and  the  increase  of  his  fortune  will 
*10 


106 


THE    RICH    FOOL. 


make  him  more  liberal.  How  many  there  are,  every 
where,  who  follow  his  example,  who  cannot  enjoy 
to-day,  because  they  are  laying  up  for  to-morrow;  and 
when  to-morrow  comes,  they  cannot  enjoy  that  for  the 
same  reason.  All  is  prospect  with  them;  and  w^ere 
they  to  live  to  the  age  of  Methusaleh,  the  scene  would 
not  change.  To  swell  their  estates  with  the  deceitful 
dream  of  enjoying  them  at  some  future  period,  consti- 
tutes the  sum  of  their  desires  and  exertions. 

IV.  But  let  us  take  another  view  of  the  rich  w^orld- 
ling  in  the  parable.  His  increasing  w^ealth,  while  it 
fills  him  with  care  to  provide  against  loss,  puts  him 
upon  the  resolution  of  pulling  down  his  barns  and 
building  greater. — But  attend  to  the  self-confident  and 
piesumptuous  language  he  employs, — "  I  am  resolved 
what  to  do;  I  will  pull  down  ray  barns  and  build 
greater,  and  there  will  I  bestow  my  fruits  and  my 
goods."  You  do  not  hear  him  say,  "If  the  Lord  will,  I 
shall  live  and  do  this  or  that;"  he  forgets  his  dependence 
on  God  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  purposes  and 
designs,  and  what  is  very  commonly  connected  with  it, 
he  forgets  the  precarious  tenure  of  that  life  on  which 
all  his  schemes  and  enjoyments  are  suspended.  He 
looks  forward  to  the  future,  as  if  the  events  of  the 
future  were  under  his  control.  He  relies  as  confi- 
dently upon  his  success,  as  if  his  own  exertions  were 
all  that  were  necessary  to  secure  it.  Neither  death 
nor  disappointment  makes  any  part  of  his  plan.  In  all 
the  height  of  self-flattery  and  presumption,  he  fixes  on 
a  period  when  he  shall  be  able  to  say,  "  Soul,  thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years;  take  thine 


THE   RICH  FOOL."  107 

ease,  eat,  drink  and  be  merry."  Then  nothing  is  to 
be  wanting  of  all  that  he  desires.  Secured  from  the 
chances  of  misfortune,  and  free  from  the  care  and  toil 
of  his  present  condition,  he  is  looking  for  the  unre- 
strained indulgence  of  all  his  appetites  and  passions  in 
scenes  of  unmingled  joy. 

This  was  the  prospect  which  his  ow^n  fond  imagina- 
tion was  sketching  out  to  him.  But  what  was  the 
sequel?  In  the  midst  of  this  dream,  "  God  said  to 
him,  thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of 
thee:  then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou 
hast  provided?"  Awful  reverse!  In  a  moment  his 
sky  is  overcast;  the  gilded  prospect  of  the  morning 
disappears;  all  his  expectations  are  cut  off,  and  his 
high  hopes  changed  in  the  twinklinor  of  an  eye  to  deep 
despair.  He  dies;  and  that  soul  whose  immortal  des- 
tiny he  had  forgotten  is  summoned  to  the  bar  of  judg- 
ment. It  comes  before  God  whose  mercy  it  had  abused, 
and  whose  power  and  justice  it  had  defied.  Where 
now  is  that  wealth  w^hich  he  accumulated,  or  which  he 
was  so  anxious  to  accumulate  in  this  world?  Will  it 
fill  him  wnth  confidence  before  his  offended  Judge? 
Will  it  soothe  the  anguish  of  throbbing  guilt?  Will 
it  purchase  a  moment's  reprieve  from  the  miseries  of 
the  second  death?  Alas!  riches  profit  not  in  the  day 
of  wrath.  The  remembrance  of  riches  perverted  and 
abused  will  siing  with  insufferable  and  eternal  remorse. 

Who  can  look  at  the  picture  without  saying,  miser- 
able end  of  a  self-deluded  mortal!  Fool  indeed,  to 
make  this  world  his  portion,  while  all  that  is  honora- 
ble in  a  virtuous  course,  all  that  is  valuable  in  the  im- 


108  THE   RICH  FOOL. 

mortal  soul,  all  that  is  pure  and  exalted  in  Heaven, 
is  madly  sacrificed!  And  sacrificed  with  the  Book  of 
God  in  his  hand,  which  set  the  path  of  duty  and  the 
retributions  of  eternity  fully  in  view;  sacrificed,  when 
life  was  known  to  be  a  bubble,  ready  to  perish  on 
every  wave — oh  what  can  exceed  this  infatuation ! 

But  pause  a  moment,  my  dear  friends — on  whom 
does  this  censure  fall?  We  are  indeed  astonished  at 
the  man  v%'ho  is  wholly  intent  on  the  pursuit  of  gain, 
whatever  may  be  his  expectations  of  enjoyment,  while 
he  neglects  the  care  of  his  soul, — "  a  good  all  price 
beyond."     But  are  none  of  us  treading  in  his  steps? 

The  heart,  my  brethren,  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
as  well  as  desperately  wicked: — and  a  covetous  heart 
is  perhaps  the  most  deceitful  of  all  hearts.  On  no  sub- 
ject do  men  more  frequently  mistake,  than  their  own 
character.  You  v.ill  often  see  those,  over  whom  this 
vice  reigns  with  the  most  unlimited  sway,  as  apparent- 
ly unconscious  of  the  fact,  as  if  their  souls  were  bap- 
tised with  the  most  fervent  charity.  They  may  even 
become  a  proverb  for  their  want  of  liberality,  and 
never  suspect  that  this  shameful  disposition  has  found 
its  way  into  their  hearts.  But  whatever  we  may  think 
of  ourselves, — what  ought  others  to  think  of  us,  when 
we  are  evidently  so  far  absorbed  in  the  world,  as  to 
have  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  attend  to  the  great 
duties  of  religion?  This  is  the  case  with  many,  who 
often  plead  the  multiplicity  of  their  worldly  cares,  as 
an  excuse  for  not  attending  immediately  to  the  great 
and  solemn  concerns  of  their  souls.  But  the  truth  is, 
they  are  covetous.     They  indulge  an  inordinate  desire 


THE    RICH   FOOL.  109 

for  the  good  things  of  this  world.  They  are  not 
willing  to  cast  their  care  on  Divine  Providence,  in  the 
humble  discharge  of  their  duty.  They  are  not  willing 
to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness, 
leaving  it  with  the  Lord  to  supply  them  with  whatever 
is  needful  according  to  his  good  promise.  They  tread 
in  the  steps  of  the  rich  worldling,  whose  heart  was 
supremely  set  upon  the  acquisitions  and  enjoyments  of 
the  present  life. 

And  do  not  they  also  bear  the  same  general  charac- 
ter, who  make  the  duties  of  religion  subordinate  to 
the  purposes  of  this  world?  What  if  it  be  so,  brethren, 
that  we  do  not  neglect  the  duties  of  religion  altogether; 
yet  if  we  attend  to  them  only  as  our  worldly  interest 
and  convenience  will  admit,  we  are  among  the  covetous, 
whom  the  Lord  abhoreth.  I  will  go  farther: — suppose 
we  are  scrupulously  attentive  to  all  the  external  duties 
of  religion,  yet  if  our  souls  are  not  in  them,  what  will 
it  avail?  If  our  hearts  are  not  in  Heaven,  but  on 
earth,  are  we  not  earthly?  If  we  toil  chiefly  for  the 
body  and  not  for  the  soul,  are  we  not  like  the  rich  man 
in  the  parable,  who  laid  up  treasure  for  himself,  but 
was  not  rich  towards  God?  What  then  shall  be  said 
of  the  man  who,  whatever  may  be  his  abundance, 
has  seldom  or  never,  any  thing  to  spare  for  the  poor, 
and  whose  well  known  covetousness  chills  the  heart  of 
every  applicant?  What  shall  be  said  of  the  litigious 
man,  who  has  always  some  right  in  dispute  with 
his  neighbors,  and  who  has  a  thousand  fold  more  con- 
cern about  the  division  of  his  earthly  inheritance,  than 
about  securing  a  title  to  the  promised  rest?     What 


110  THE   RICH   FOOL. 

shall  be  said  of  the  devouring  usurer,  who,  in  defiance 
equally  of  the  laws  of  God  and  of  society,  grinds  the 
face  of  the  poor,  to  satisfy  his  greedy  thirst  of  gain? 
Are  not  these  men  under  the  reigning  power  of  covet- 
ousness?  And  are  they  not  in  danger  of  being  accosted 
by  God  himself  in  the  awful  language  in  our  text, 
"  Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of 
thee;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast 
provided?" 

But  let  us  suppose,  my  brethren, that  we  could  acquit 
ourselves  of  covetousness  as  a  reigning  sin,  and  that 
none  of  the  characters  now^  mentioned  belonged  to  us, — 
yet  has  not  this  temper  too  manifest  a  hold  in  our 
hearts?  Do  w^e  not  think  more  of  the  world, —care 
more  for  the  world,  than  in  reason  we  ought  to  do? 
Do  we  not  give  less  frequently,  and  less  bountifully, 
and  less  cheerfully,  than  if  a  spirit  of  covetousness 
w^ere  wholly  eradicated  from  our  hearts?  Alas!  my 
dear  friends,  covetousness  is  the  sin  of  our  times.  It 
is  a  sin  in  the  church,  and  a  sin  out  the  church.  It  is 
a  sin,  which,  under  the  deceitful  names  of  prudence 
and  economy,  chills  the  spirit  of  piety  in  many  a 
bosom,  and  which  daily  loads  with  reproach  that 
heaven-born  religion  whose  principle  and  end  is  charity. 

But  what  shall  we  do  to  counteract  its  baneful  and 
wide  spreading  influence? 

Let  us  become  deeply  impressed  wuth  the  immense 
folly  of  seeking  to  become  rich  in  this  world,  when  it 
is  to  be  done  at  the  expense  of  justice  and  charity,  and 
especially  at  the  hazard  of  injuring,  if  not  destroying, 
our  souls.     Let  us  remember  that  wealth  is  but  a  paint- 


THE   RICH   FOOL.  '  1  U 

ed  bubble,  which  can  never  make  us  happy.  It  can 
not  satisfy  the  covetous  soul  itself.  It  can  not  bring 
peace  to  the  troubled  conscience.  It  can  not  extract 
the  sting  of  death. 

Let  us  bear  in  mind  also  that  we  brought  nothing 
into  the  world  with  us,  and  that  it  is  certain  we  can 
carry  nothing  out;  that  death  will  soon  strip  us  of 
all  our  worldly  acquisitions,  even  if  our  days  are  pro- 
tracted to  the  remotest  limit  of  human  life;  and  that, 
for  aught  we  can  tell,  death  may  be  nigh  even  at  the 
door.  Who  ever  felt  more  secure  than  the  rich 
man  in  the  parable,  when  he  was  occupied  with  the 
thoughts  of  pulling  down  his  barns  and  building  great- 
er? And  yet  God  said  unto  him,  "  Thou  fool,  this 
night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee."  We  know 
not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  Every  moment  we 
are  liable  to  be  torn  from  our  possessions,  and  to  pass 
into  eternity.  What  madness  is  that  which  makes 
us  so  eager  for  .the  treasures  of  earth,  so  indifferent  to 
the  treasures  of  Heaven? 

I  beseech  you,  dear  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of  God, 
by  the  hopes  of  an  eternal  Heaven,  and  by  the  fears  of 
an  endless  Hell,  that  you  withdraw^  your  affections 
from  this  world,  and  that  instead  of  making  it  the 
grand  concern  of  your  lives  to  heap  up  silver  and  gold 
as  the  dust,  and  prepare  raiment  as  the  clay,  you  strive 
to  become  rich  towards  God.  Fear  not  to  give  alms 
of  such  things  as  you  have:  but  remember  that  to  do 
good  and  to  communicate  is  a  sacrifice  with  which 
God  is  well  pleased.  By  and  by  you  will  be  put  out 
of  your  stewardship.     0  how  desirable  will  it  be  to 


112  THE    RICH   FOOL. 

find  one  who  will  receive  you  into  everlasting  habita- 
tions! 

I  press  you  the  more  upon  this  subject  because  it 
can  not  be  doubted  that  if  we  held  the  world  with  a 
looser  hand,  we  should  enjoy  much  more  real  happi- 
ness while  in  the  world,  and  should  not  find  the  same 
impediments  to  our  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
W'hen  the  business  of  this  world  is  over.  Let  us  rise 
on  the  wings  of  faith  to  that  rich  and  undefiled  inhe- 
ritance above,  where  Jesus,  the  Saviour,  is  gone,  and 
where  he  will  gather  all  his  true  disciples  at  last. 
There  are  treasures  incorruptible  and  immortal, — trea- 
sures which  the  more  they  are  known,  the  more  will 
they  be  valued; — treasures  which  can  never  be  lost  to 
their  possessors  by  misfortune,  or  torn  from  them  by 
violence;  but  which  will  continue  to  enrich  and  bless 
their  souls  through  eternity. 

But  some  are  ready  to  felicitate  themselves  that  this 
subject  has  nothing  to  do  with  them.  With  w^hatever 
vices  or  follies  they  are  chargeable,  they  are  not  covet- 
ous. They  have  no  desire  nor  expectation  of  hoarding 
up  the  wealth  of  this  world.  The  parable  of  the 
rich  w^orldling,  they  imagine,  was  certainly  not  spoken 
to  such  as  they  are.  But  are  not  your  hearts  fastened 
upon  the  world?  It  matters  not  whether  it  be  honour, 
or  pleasure  or  gain  which  attracts  you.  If  you  love 
the  world,  you  must  perish  with  the  world.  The  rich 
man  in  the  parable  dreamed  of  one  thing,  you  may 
dream  of  another;  but  his  dreams  and  yours  will  be 
alike  deceitful  and  ruinous.  He  who  said  to  him, 
"  Thou   fool,   this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of 


THE^RICH  FOOL.  113 

thee,"  may  suddenly  pronounce  the  same  awful  sen- 
tence in  your  case.  0  then,  my  dear  friends,  withdraw 
your  hearts  from  the  world.  Think  of  that  dread 
eternity  which  must  soon  open  upon  you.  Prepare  to 
meet  your  God,  who  will  surely  bring  you  into  judg- 
ment; whose  favour  is  life,  and  whose  loving  kindness 
is  better  than  life.  Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and 
you  perish  from  the  way,  Avhile  his  wrath  is  kindled 
but  a  little. 


11 


SERMON  VI. 


THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD. 


n  SAMUEL,  VI.,  1,  2. 

"  And  David  gathered  together  all  the  chosen  men  of  Israel, 
thirty  thousand;  and  David  arose  and  went  with  all  the  people 
that  were  with  him,  from  Baal  of  Judah,  to  bring  up  from  thence 
the  ark  of  God,  whose  name  is  called  by  the  name  of  the  Lord  of 
Hosts  that  dwelleth  between  the  cherubim.''^ 

There  are  few  persons  mentioned  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, whose  lives  are  marked  by  so  many  striking 
incidents  as  that  of  David.  We  are  much  interested 
in  him,  when  he  is  first  introduced  to  our  notice  at  his 
father's  house  in  Bethlehem,  where  Samuel  went  to 
anoint  him  king  over  Israel.  He  was  then  a  fair  and 
ruddy  youth,  engaged  in  the  humble  and  peaceful 
occupation  of  a  shepherd,  a  stranger  to  those  agitating 
and  conflicting  passions,  which  are  usually  attendant 
on  public  life.  We  feel  a  deeper  interest  in  him,  when 
brought  into  the  house  of  Saul,  where  by  playing  skil- 
fully on  his  harp,  he  was  enabled  to  dispel  the  gloom 
which  sometimes  fell  upon  the  mind  of  that  unhappy 
monarch.  But  what  are  our  feelings,  when  we  behold 
him,  with  unexampled  faith  and  courage,  going  forth 
with  his  staff  and  his  sling,  to  fight  the  uncircumcised 
Philistine,  who,  for  forty  days,  had  appalled  the  Israel- 


THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD.  115 

ites,  and  defied  the  armies  of  the  living  God  1  Every 
heart  is  moved  to  hear  him  say  to  the  Philistine — "  Thou 
comest  to  me  with  a  sword,  and  with  a  spear,  and  with 
a  shield,  but  I  come  to  thee,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  the  God  of  the  armies  of  Israel,  w^hom  thou  hast 
defied."  We  rejoice  with  him  when  he  returns  victo- 
rious from  the  battle  field,  and  feel  that  his  achievement 
is  the  triumph  of  faith  over  a  bold  and  blasphemous 
infidelity.  We  rejoice  too  in  his  advancement  in  the 
royal  family,  while  his  rising  fame  is  sw^elling  on  every 
breeze,  and  the  daughters  of  Israel  are  singing,  "  Saul 
hath  slain  his  thousands  and  David  his  ten  thousands." 
W'e  are  equally  surprised  and  delighted  to  behold  the 
friendship  w^hich  exists  between  him  and  Jonathan,  the 
elder  son  of  Saul,  and  the  natural  heir  to  his  crown. 
All  ambitious  and  selfish  feelings  appear  to  be  extin- 
guished in  the  purity  and  strength  of  their  affection. 
They  loved  each  other  as  their  own  souls,  and  doubtless 
they  were  of  kindred  spirit.  But  here  the  scene 
changes.  David  finds  an  implacable  enemy  in  the  per- 
son of  Saul.  His  virtues  had  shone  too  bright,  and  his 
fame  had  sounded  too  loud,  to  be  tolerated  by  this 
haughty  and  envious  man.  He  resolves  therefore  to 
take  the  life  of  David;  and  no  entreaty  on  the  part  of 
Jonathan  could  soften  his  feelings  or  divert  him  from 
his  purpose.  David  is  compelled  to  flee  to  the  rocks 
in  the  wilderness.  Behold  him  now  at  Nob,  where  he 
was  impelled  by  hunger  to  eat  the  shew  bread,  w^hich 
was  not  lawful,  but  for  the  priests  only: — now^,  among 
the  Philistines  where  he  narrowly  escaped  death,  by 
feigning  a  fit  of  madness; — now  in  the  cave  of  Adul- 


116  THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD. 

lam,  in  the  south  of  Judah; — now  at  Mizpeh  in  the 
land  of  Moab; — and  afterwards  at  Keilah,  where 
the  treacherous  inhabitants,  though  deeply  indebted 
for  his  kindness,  stood  ready  to  deliver  him  up, 
had  an  opportunity  presented.  Now  he  is  in  the 
wilderness  of  Ziph;  now  in  the  wilds  of  Maon, 
where  the  thousands  of  Israel  were  drawn  out  in  pur- 
suit of  him;  and  now,  in  the  cave  of  En-gedi,  where 
he  cut  off  the  skirt  of  Saul's  robe,  instead  of  taking  his 
life,  which  he  could  more  easily  have  done; — a  circum- 
stance which  melted  Saul's  heart  for  the  time,  and 
compelled  him  to  cry  out,  "  My  son  David,  thou  art 
more  righteous  than  I."  Afterwards  we  find  him  in 
the  wilderness  of  Ziph,  pursued  by  three  thousand 
chosen  men,  under  the  direction  of  Saul.  It  was  here 
that  Saul  had  his  spear,  and  cruse  of  water  taken  from 
his  bolster,  when  a  single  blow,  had  David  permitted, 
would  have  put  a  period  to  his  life  and  his  cruelty  to- 
gether. Saul  confessed  his  wickedness  to  David  the 
second  time,  and  renewed  his  promises  of  kindness;  but 
David  knowing  the  depth  of  his  malice,  and  fearing 
that  he  should  one  day  fall  by  his  faithless  hand,  left 
the  land  of  Israel  altogether,  and  took  up  his  residence 
w^th  the  king  of  Gath.  Here  he  remained  until  the 
death  of  Saul,  when  he  returned  to  Hebron,  and  was 
made  king  over  Judah.  By  degrees,  the  strength  of 
the  house  of  Saul  was  wasted,  and  at  the  expiration  of 
a  little  more  than  seven  years,  all  the  tribes  of  Israel 
were  gathered  unto  David,  and  the  seat  of  government 
transferred  to  Jerusalem,  when  he  entered  upon  a  pros- 
perous reign  of  more  than  thirty  years,. 


THE    ARK    OF    THE    LORD.  117 

But  what  are  the  views  and  feelings  of  David  now 
that  God  has  redeemed  him  out  of  all  his  troubles,  and 
placed  him  at  the  head  of  a  great  nation,  causing  him 
to  be  respected  at  home  and  abroad?  Does  he  think 
only  of  enlarging  or  strengthening  his  domain?  Is  he 
wholly  occupied  with  the  secular  concerns  of  his 
kingdom?  or  does  he  lose  himself  in  thoughtless  and 
guilty  pleasure?  No!  one  of  his  first  cares  is  the  ark 
of  the  Lord,  which  had  been  neglected  through  all  the 
days  of  Saul; — and  one  of  his  first  public  acts  is  to 
bring  it  up  from  Kirjath-jearim,  where  it  had  rested  for 
more  than  half  a  century,  and  set  it  in  a  tabernacle  he 
had  pitched  for  it  in  the  royal  city.  This  is  an  object 
worthy  of  his  pious  and  devout  heart,  and  connected 
with  an  important  reformation  in  the  external  worship 
of  God, — perhaps  in  the  power  and  spirit  of  true  re- 
ligion. 

Some  illustration  of  this  remarkable  transaction — 
together  with  the  reflections  which  it  may  suggest,  will 
constitute  the  subject  of  this  discourse. 

The  ark  of  the  Lord,  or  the  ark  of  the  covenant, 
as  it  is  sometimes  called,  you  will  recollect,  was  the  ark 
W'hich  Moses  was  required  to  make  in  the  wilderness, 
after  a  pattern  which  was  shown  to  him  in  the  holy 
mount.  It  was  a  small  chest  or  coffer,  overlaid  with 
pure  gold,  within  and  without; — a  little  more  than  four 
feet  in  length,  two  feet  and  an  half  in  breadth,  and  the 
same  in  depth.  The  lid  or  covering  to  the  Ark  was  of 
massy  gold,  and  had  round  about  it  a  golden  edge  or 
crown.  This  covering  was  called  the  mercy  seat  or 
propitiatory.  Above  it,  but  still  attached  to  it,  stood 
*11 


118  THE    ARK  OF  THE    LORI>^ 

the  cherubim,  two  figures,  all  of  beaten  gold,  with  their 
wings  spread  out  over  the  mercy  seat,  and  their  faces 
turned  towards  it  and  towards  each  other. 

From  between  the  cherubim  God  displayed  his  glory, 
after  the  tabernacle  w^as  pitched,  and  the  ark  removed 
within  the  veil;  and  thence  he  delivered  to  Moses  the 
remainder  of  the  ceremonial  and  judicial  law,  and  com- 
muned with  him,  from  time  to  time,  as  a  man  communes 
with  his  friend.  Probably,  in  after  years,  answers  were 
received  from  the  same  place,  as  here  abode  the 
Shekinah  or  cloud  of  glory,  the  sensible  token  of  God's 
presence,  to  which  there  is  an  allusion  in  the  words  of 
our  text,  where  God  is  called  "  by  the  name  of  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  that  dwelleth  between  the  cherubim." 
He  is  often  invoked  by  this  name  in  the  scripture,  and 
it  is  a  name  which  should  be  dear  to  every  sinner's 
heart,  as  it  represents  Jehovah,  as  dwelling  upon  a 
mercy  seat,  dispensing  pardon  to  the  penitent  through 
the  blood  of  atonement. 

In  the  ark  were  deposited  the  two  tables  of  stone, 
which  contained  the  law  of  the  ten  commandments, 
written  with  the  finger  of  God;  and  on  this  account  it 
is  called  both  the  ark  of  the  covenant  and  the  ark  of 
testimony.  The  ten  commandments  were  the  sum  of 
that  covenant  which  the  Lord  enjoined  upon  the  people, 
and  which  the  people  promised  to  obey;  at  the  same 
time  that  they  were  a  solemn  testimony  of  God's 
presence  with  them,  his  authority  over  them,  and  his 
readiness  to  reward  or  to  punish  according  as  they 
should  be  found  to  obey  or  disobey  his  voice.  In  the 
ark  also  were  laid  up  the  golden  pot  of  manna,  and 


THE   ARK   OF    THE    LORD.  119 

Aaron's  rod  that  budded,  both  of  which  were  dis- 
tinguished memorials  of  the  divine  power  and  mercy, 
and  never  to  be  forgotten  by  the  Israelites. 

We  have  already  remarked  that,  after  the  tabernacle 
w^as  pitched,  the  ark  w^as  removed  within  the  veil,  or 
into  tlie  most  holy  place.  This  was  the  inner  sanctuary, 
and  nothing  but  the  ark  was  allowed  to  have  a  place 
there.  Here  the  high  priest  alone  entered,  and  he  but 
once  a  year.  This  was  on  the  great  day  of  atonement, 
when  he  went  to  burn  incense  before  the  Lord,  (an 
emblem  of  his  own  and  the  people's  prayers) — and  to 
sprinkle  the  blood  of  the  sin  offering  upon  the  Ark,  or 
rather  upon  the  mercy  seat,  and  before  the  mercy  seat 
seven  times, — to  make  reconciliation  both  for  his  own 
sins,  and  the  sins  of  the  people. 

How  important  then  was  the  ark  in  the  Hebrew 
worship;  and  how  zealous  must  every  friend  of  religion 
have  been  for  the  maintenance  of  its  rites  and  its  honours. 
No  w^onder  the  pious  Israelites  in  every  age  should 
have  felt  for  it  the  profoundest  reverence,  and  have 
associated  w^ith  it  the  honour  of  God  and  the  interests 
of  piety  and  virtue.  It  was  the  symbol  of  God's  pre- 
sence in  the  midst  of  them,  and  they  had  everything 
to  hope  or  fear  as  its  sacred  rites  were  revered  or  dis- 
regarded. 

While  the  Israelites  remained  in  the  wilderness,  the 
ark  of  the  Lord  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  their  camp, 
and  none  but  the  Levites  were  permitted  to  pitch  their 
tents  near  to  it.  A  pillar  of  cloud  rested  upon  it  by 
day,  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night.  When  the  cloud 
was  taken  up,  it  was  a  signal  for  the  ark  to  move 


120  THE    ARK   OF   THE    LORD. 

forward,  and  for  the  armies  of  Israel  to  follow.  When 
the  cloud  rested,  they  rested.  The  ark  and  the  cloud 
corresponded  in  their  movements:  whence  it  is  said 
that  the  ark  of  the  Lord  went  before  the  Israelites,  to 
seek  out  a  resting  place  for  them.  On  every  occasion, 
when  the  ark  set  forward,  Moses  said,  "Rise  up,  Lord, 
and  let  thine  enemies  be  scattered,  and  let  them  that 
hate  thee,  flee  before  thee;"  and  when  it  rested,  he 
said,  "  Return  0  Lord  unto  the  many  thousands  of 
Israel." 

We  are  not  informed  whether  the  cloudy  pillar  at- 
tended the  ark,  after  the  Israelites  had  passed  over  into 
the  land  of  Canaan.  We  only  know  that  Jordan 
was  driven  back,  at  the  presence  of  the  Lord  of  the 
whole  earth,  when  the  priests  who  bore  the  ark  dipped 
their  feet  in  the  brim  of  that  river;  and  that  the  walls 
of  Jericho  fell  down  flat,  after  being  encompassed  by 
the  ark  seven  days,  and  while  the  priests  who  preceded 
it,  blew  with  the  trumpets  of  rams  horns. 

On  the  Israelites'  first  entering  the  promised  land, 
the  ark  was  established  at  Gilgal,  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Jericho.  When  they  had  gotten  a  fuller  pos- 
session of  the  country,  it  was  removed  to  a  more  cen- 
tral position  in  Shiloh,  in  the  tribe  of  Ephraim,  where 
it  remained  for  three  hundred  and  twenty-eight  years, 
till  it  was  carried  to  the  camp,  and  taken  by  the  Philis- 
tines, at  the  news  of  which  good  old  Eli  fell  from  his 
seat,  and  died.  He  could  hear  with  some  composure, 
of  the  death  of  his  two  sons,  Hophni  and  Phineas,  and 
the  great  slaughter  which  had  taken  place  among  the 
people,  but  when  the  messenger  told  him  that  the  ark 


THE    ARK   OF    THE    LORD.  121 

of  God  was  taken,  exhausted  nature  sunk; — he  fell 
backward  and  expired. 

The  Philistines  carried  the  ark  in  triumph  to  the 
temple  of  their  idol  in  i\shdod;  but  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  was  upon  their  idol  and  upon  the  people.  They 
conveyed  it  to  the  city  of  Gath;  but  the  judgments  of 
God  followed,  and  after  a  few  months,  the  ark  was 
sent  back  again  to  the  land  of  Israel,  borne  on  a  new 
cart,  drawn  by  two  milch  kine.  It  was  first  received 
by  the  men  of  Bethshemesh,  and  presently  carried  to 
Kirjath-jearim,  to  the  house  of  Abinadab,  where  it 
remained  in  a  great  degree  neglected  for  about  seventy 
years  until  David  assembled  all  the  chosen  men  of 
Israel,  to  bring  it  up  to  Jerusalem.  The  importance  of 
this  transaction  you  will  clearly  perceive  by  the  account 
we  have  given  of  the  ark,  and  its  connection  with  the 
public  worship  of  God.  But  how  did  David  perform 
this  duty?  With  a  zeal  becoming  the  great  occasion, 
he  sent  through  all  the  land  of  Israel,  and  gathered 
together  a  vast  concourse  of  people,  and  especially 
men  of  distinguished  rank,  to  bear  a  part  in  this  in- 
teresting scene.  Every  heart  seemed  delighted,  and 
every  face  glistened  with  joy.  The  ark  was  brought 
out  of  the  house  of  Abinadab,  and  set  forward  on  its 
journey  to  the  royal  city,  David  and  all  the  house  of  Israel 
playing  before  the  Lord  with  all  manner  of  instruments 
of  fir  wood,  harps,  psalteries,  timbrels,  cornets,  con- 
nected with  singing  and  sound  of  trumpets.  But  one 
important  circumstance  had  been  overlooked.  The 
law  of  the  Lord  had  not  been  consulted  to  know  how 
the  ark  should  be  carried.     Instead  of  placing  it  upon 


122  THE    ARK    OF    THE    LORD. 

the  shoulders  of  the  Levites,  according  to  the  express 
command  of  God,  they  put  it  into  a  new  cart  drawn 
by  oxen,  after  the  manner  of  the  Philistines,  when  they 
sent  the  ark  home,  out  of  their  own  country.  It  came 
to  pass,  therefore,  that  when  they  had  reached  the 
threshing  floor  of  Nachon,  Uzzah  one  of  the  attendants, 
put  forth  his  hand  and  took  hold  of  the  ark,  because 
the  oxen  shook  it,  and  the  Lord  smote  him  for  his 
error,  that  he  died.  His  unauthorized  and  presump- 
tuous familiarity,  whatever  might  have  been  his  inten- 
tions, drew  down  upon  him  this  signal  token  of  God's 
displeasure.  He  was  not  of  the  family  of  the  priests 
to  whom  alone  it  was  permitted  to  touch  the  ark, 
without  pain  of  death. 

Who  can  well  conceive  the  tumult  and  distress  which 
this  melancholy  event  must  have  produced?  How 
suddenly  did  the  sound  of  the  harps  and  of  the  timbrel 
cease!  Where  are  those  demonstrations  of  joy,  which, 
but  a  fev/  moments  before,  were  seen  in  this  vast  as- 
sembly? "  O  death,  how  unseasonable  thy  approach  I" 
must  have  been  the  reflection  of  many  a  worldly  heart. 
But  God  is  holy,  though  he  sitteth  between  the  cheru- 
bim, and  dwelleth  upon  the  mercy  seat.  He  hath  said, 
"  I  will  be  sanctified  in  them  that  come  nigh  me,  and 
before  all  the  people  will  I  be  glorified." 

As  a  door  was  now  opening  for  the  restoration  of 
the  ark  to  its  original  significance  and  importance  in 
the  worship  of  Jehovah,  it  seemed  in  some  degree  re- 
quisite, that  a  lesson  should  be  given,  which  would  not 
fail  to  impress  every  mind  with  the  sanctity  of  the  divine 
Being  and  the  reverence  due  to  his  laws. 


THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD.  123 

David,  we  are  told,  was  displeased  at  the  breach 
which  was  made  upon  Uzzah;  but  it  is  not  expressly 
said  against  whom  his  displeasure  was  directed; — per- 
haps against  the  priests  and  Levites,  for  not  giving  due 
information  as  to  the  method  of  carrying  the  ark,  or  for 
not  coming  forward  to  a  duty  to  which  they  had  been 
specially  appointed.  But  it  is  more  probable  that  his 
displeasure  was  against  the  Lord  himself,  whose  imme- 
diate agency  had  caused  the  breach  of  which  he  com- 
plained; and  he  is  a  stranger  to  his  own  heart,  who 
never  discovered  any  dissatisfaction  with  divine  provi- 
dence, when  his  strongest  wishes  were  counteracted,  or 
w^hen  publicly  mortified  and  put  to  shame  before  the 
world.  This  was  a  temper,  however,  in  which  David 
did  not  long  indulge,  but  w^hich  appears  to  have  given 
place  to  a  disposition  far  more  becoming  him  as  a  man 
and  a  sinner.  "  He  was  afraid  of  the  Lord,  that  day,  and 
said,  "  How  shall  the  ark  of  the  Lord  come  unto  me?" 
Conscious  of  his  own  guilt,  he  trembled  before  a  God 
of  unspotted  holiness,  who  was  jealous  for  his  own 
name.  He  dare  not  at  this  time  bring  up  the  ark  to 
the  place  intended  for  it  in  his  own  city,  but  directed 
it  to  be  carried  to  the  house  of  Obed-edom,  the  Gittite, 
one  of  the  pious  sons  of  Levi,  who  willingly  received 
this  solemn  guest,  notwithstanding  the  breach  which 
had  been  made  upon  the  house  of  Israel.  No  doubt  he 
fully  recognised  the  justice  of  God  in  this  awful  stroke, 
and  submitted  to  it  as  an  event,  painful  indeed,  but  still 
calculated  to  magnify  the  Lord  among  his  people. 

A  blessing  of  so  conspicuous  a  character  descended 
upon  the  house  of  Obed-  edom,  that,  at  the  expiration 


124  THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD. 

of  three  months,  David  was  encouraged  to  renew  the 
attempt  to  bring  up  the  ark  to  the  place  he  had  pre- 
pared for  it  in  Jerusalem. 

All  Israel,  therefore,  are  again  assembled,  and  greater 
preparations  made  than  at  the  first.  But  the  law  of 
God  is  not  now  overlooked.  "  None  ought  to  carry 
the  ark."  says  David,  "  but  the  Levites;  for  them  hath 
the  Lord  chosen  to  bear  the  ark,  and  to  minister  unto 
him  forever."  The  priests  and  the  Levites  are  required 
to  sanctify  themselves,  and  to  make  those  arrangements 
which  are  requisite  for  this  great  solemnity.  They 
receive  a  strict  charge  that  every  thing  should  be  done 
after  the  due  order.  Different  companies  of  singers, 
and  players  upon  instruments  are  provided.  The  ark  of 
the  Lord  is  placed  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  Levites,  by 
means  of  the  staves  attached  to  it,  as  Moses  had  com- 
manded, and  with  profound  reverence,  but  with  great 
joy  and  gladness,  borne  to  the  royal  city,  accompanied 
by  David,  and  the  elders  of  Israel,  with  all  his  captains 
and  mighty  men.  What  heart  could  have  been  un- 
moved at  the  sight  of  this  vast  procession,  or  at  the 
sacred  music  flowing  from  so  many  voices  and  so  many 
instruments,  each  company  striving  to  excel,  while  they 
uttered  the  mighty  acts  of  the  Lord,  and  praised  him 
w^ith  all  their  powers.  A  psalm,  adapted  to  the  occa- 
sion was  delivered  by  David  to  Asaph  and  his  brethren, 
and  is  recorded  in  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  second  of 
Chronicles.  But  it  is  probable  that  other  psalms  were 
sung,  and  among  the  rest  the  tw^enty-fourth  psalm, 
which  seems,  in  a  high  degree,  appropriate,  w^hen  the 
ark  had  come  near  the  gates  of  Jerusalem.     What  could 


THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD.  125 

be  more  striking,  than  for  the  singers,  who  were  accus- 
tomed to  sing  in  responses,  to  say,  "  Lift  up  your  heads, 
O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and 
the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in,"  while  another  com- 
pany answered,  "  Who  is  this  King  of  glory?"  and  it 
was  returned,  "  The  Lord,  strong  and  mighty,  the  Lord 
mighty  in  battle.  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates,  even 
lift  them  up  ye  everlasting  doors,  and  the  King  of  glory 
shall  come  in.  Who  isthisKing  of  glory?  The  Lord 
of  Hosts,  (a  name  ascribed  to  him  who  dwelleth  be- 
tween the  cherubim,)  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  he  is  the  King 
of  glory." 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  David  was  greatly  animated 
on  this  occasion,  and  that  he  almost  lost  himself  in  the 
general  tide  of  joy?  It  is  said  that  he  danced  before 
the  Lord  with  all  his  might,  being  clothed  with  a  linen 
garment,  or  girt  about  with  a  linen  ephod.  That  is, 
he  laid  aside  his  royal  robe,  and  dressed  himself  in  the 
plain  and  simple  attire  of  the  Levites,  who  held  an 
important  rank  among  the  worshippers  of  God  and 
the  friends  of  the  ark;  and  was  not  ashamed  to  express 
his  joy,  w^hich  now  rose  to  an  ecstacy,  by  leaping  and 
dancing,  according  to  a  practice  sanctioned  by  the  im- 
memorial usage  of  his  country. 

But  there  was  one  at  least,  who  thouc^ht  his  zeal 
overdone.  Michal,  the  daughter  of  Saul,  and  the  wife 
of  David,  looked  from  a  window  and  saw  him  leaping 
and  playing  before  the  ark,  and  despised  him  in  her 
heart;  and  as  soon  as  she  had  an  opportunity,  re- 
proached him  to  his  face,  and  said:  "How  glorious 
was  the  king  of  Israel  to  day,  who  by  laying  off  his 
12 


126  THE    ARK   OF    THE    LORD. 

robes  and  acting  the  part  of  a  singer  and  dancer,  hath 
made  himself  contemptible  to  the  lowest  of  the  people." 
David  replied  with  some  spirit,  and  said — "  It  was 
before  the  Lord  who  chose  me  instead  of  thy  father, 
that  I  did  this,  and  if  I  have  been  vile,  I  will  be  yet 
more  vile,  and  v^^ill  be  base  in  my  own  sight." 

This  was  a  great  occasion  in  David's  estimation,  and 
it  transported  him  a  thousand  times  more  than  his  most 
splendid  victories.  His  heart  was  filled  with  piety 
towards  God,  and  benevolence  towards  man.  Here  he 
remembered  the  vows  which  his  soul  had  made  in 
trouble; — and  w^hile  he  devoutly  blessed  the  Lord  for 
all  his  goodness  towards  him,  and  towards  the  nation 
of  Israel,  he  was  forward  to  imitate  that  goodness,  in 
dealing  to  every  one  a  portion  of  his  bounty,  and  thus 
sending  his  people  away  joyful  to  their  own  homes. 
But  he  did  not  leave  the  ark  himself,  till  he  had  made 
permanent  provision  for  the  public  w^orship  of  God, — 
appointing  the  Levites  to  their  service,  both  as  porters 
and  singers,  and  placing  the  different  bands  of  mu- 
sicians under  their  respective  leaders.  In  making  this 
arrangement,  he  was  no  doubt  inspired  by  God,  and 
acted  rather  in  the  character  of  prophet,  than  of  king. 
Having  finished  this  public  service,  he  returned  to  bless 
his  house, — that  is,  to  the  exercise  of  family  religion, 
for  which  he  had  been  eminently  fitted  by  the  solemn 
transactions  of  the  day;  thus  combining  in  his  life  the 
duties  of  domestic  piety,  no  less  than  those  which  per- 
tained to  the  sanctuary  of  the  Lord. 

A  crowd  of  reflections  present  themselves  in  view  of 
this  important  portion  of  sacred  history.     I  shall  con- 


THE    ARK    OF    THE    LORD.  127 

tent  myself  with  barely  suggesting  a  few  of  them, 
leaving  a  fuller  application  of  the  subject  to  your  own 
meditations. 

1.  Who  can  help  remarking,  in  the  first  place,  how 
happy  it  is  when  our  prosperity  does  not  make  us  for- 
get God.  In  a  multitude  of  cases,  men  who  have  been 
apparently  respectful  towards  religion,  if  not  devout, 
while  in  the  vale  of  poverty  or  obscurity,  have  greatly 
altered  their  tone  of  feeling,  when  suddenly  elevated  to 
wealth  or  power.  This  was  the  case  of  Saul.  He 
lost  much  of  his  respect  for  divine  institutions  after  he 
ascended  the  throne  of  Israel,  and  finally  came  to  dis- 
regard both  the  voice  of  God  and  of  his  prophet.  It 
was  otherwise  with  David.  He  felt  the  need  of  God's 
protection  while  a  shepherd  in  the  wilderness,  and  when 
hunted  like  a  partridge  upon  the  mountains  by  his  cruel 
persecutors; — and  he  did  not  lose  his  sense  of  depend- 
ance  upon  God,  nor  his  love  to  the  duties  of  religion, 
when  raised  to  the  pinnacle  of  earthly  greatness,  and 
when  all  his  enemies  were  cut  oflf  or  laid  prostrate  at 
his  feet.  This  was  a  proof  of  the  reality  and  strength 
of  his  piety,  and  adds  no  small  interest  and  beauty  to 
his  character.  How  desirable  to  resemble  him,  and  to 
let  our  prosperity  brighten  our  zeal  rather  than  dimi- 
ish  it! 

2.  Who  does  not  perceive  also,  in  view  of  the  sub- 
ject before  us,  how  important  it  is  for  men  in  oflSce,  and 
for  men  of  rank  and  influence  of  every  description,  to 
take  a  deep  interest  in  the  cause  of  religion.  They 
are  the  strong  rods  of  the  community,  and  may  be  pow- 
erful agents  in  the  hands  of  divine  Providence  in  pro- 


128  THE    AKK    OF    THE    LORD. 

moting  the  interests  of  piety.  Their  examples  alone 
would  do  much  in  discountenancing  vice,  and  in  widen- 
ing the  influence  of  truth  and  virtue.  Look  at  Moses, 
at  Joshua,  at  Gideon,  Samuel,  David,  and  the  pious 
kings  who  came  after  him; — what  signal  blessings 
were  they  to  the  generation  in  which  they  lived;  how 
much  good  was  done  by  their  personal  efforts!  And 
besides,  what  could  add  a  greater  lustre  to  their  charac- 
ter? Who  does  not  respect  David  the  more  for  the 
zeal  he  displayed  for  the  ark  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 

.'L  We  are  taught,  moreover,  by  this  narrative, 
the  great  importance  of  doing  everything  in  religion 
according  to  the  rules  which  God  himself  has  pre- 
scribed. Had  this  truth  been  thoroughly  impressed  upon 
the  mind  of  David,  and  those  that  were  with  him,  in 
the  first  attempt  to  bring  up  the  ark,  Uzzah  had  not 
been  stricken  dead  for  his  error,  nor  this  noble  enter- 
prise for  the  time  defeated.  God  requires  that  we 
should  understand  our  duty,  and  makes  our  ignorance 
penal,  where  it  proceeds  from  an  inattention  to  his 
written  law.  What  an  argument  is  this  for  a  constant 
and  prayerful  application  to  his  holy  word.  If  we  are 
ignorant  with  both  testaments  in  our  hands,  woe  be  to 
our  folly  and  perverseness. 

4.  The  conduct  of  David  in  bringing  up  the  ark, 
may  lead  us  to  reflect  that  while  great  zeal  may  have 
great  defects,  yet,  where  it  proceeds  from  honest  prin- 
ciple, it  will  not  be  easily  discouraged.  It  may  be 
chastened  for  its  irregularity,  for  its  ignorance,  for  its 
pride  and  vain  glory.  It  may  be  foiled  in  its  exertions; 
but  it  will  not  give  over.     Proceeding  in   the  main 


THE    ARK    OF    THE    LORD.  129 

from  love  to  God  and  a  regard  to  his  honour,  it  will 
renew  its  efforts  until  its  desires  are  accomplished.  If 
David  had  not  been  a  true  friend  to  the  ark,  the  breach 
of  Uzzah  would  probably  have  quenched  his  zeal  for- 
ever. He  would  not  have  risked  another  mortification 
before  the  great  men  of  his  kingdom;  many  of  whom 
were  no  very  ardent  friends  to  his  religion.  But  as  the 
case  was,  his  want  of  success  only  humbled  him,  and 
made  him  observant  of  God's  law,  till  at  length  his 
zeal  awoke  to  greater  ardour  than  before,  and  prompted 
him  to  efforts  which  God  was  pleased  to  crown  with  his 
blessing.  Does  our  zeal,  brethren,  hold  out?  Or  does 
it  want  that  persevering  character,  which  is  the  touch 
stone  of  sincerity? 

5.  The  history  before  us  presents  us  with  another 
truth  written  as  with  a  sunbeam — that  a  careless  or 
presumptuous  familiarity  with  respect  to  the  great 
objects  of  our  devotion,  is  highly  offensive  to  God. 
We  are  not  to  speak  to  Him  as  to  our  neighbour. 
We  are  not  to  treat  the  great  subjects  of  his  attributes, 
his  laws,  his  kingdom,  with  the  same  kind  of  levity  or 
indifference,  as  we  do  things  which  are  merely  secular. 
We  must  be  solemn  when  we  treat  with,  or  about  the 
King  eternal.  Is  he  merciful — what  then?  He  is 
holy  as  well  as  merciful.  Uzzah  was  near  the  mercy 
seat,  when  he  presumptuously  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
ark,  and  fell  dead  before  the  Lord. 

Let  us  be  admonished   also,   not   to  busy    ourselves 

with  employments  or  things  beyond  our  proper  limits; 

but  always  to  maintain  upon  our  minds  a  due  reverence 

for  the  bounds  which  God  has  prescribed  to  us,  whether 

*12 


130  THE   ARK    OF   THE    LORD. 

in  the  opinions  we  form,  or  in  the  duties  we  discharge. 
Let  us  cuhivate  a  reverent  and  lowly  spirit,  and  treat 
every  subject  of  religion  with  that  seriousness  and 
solemnity,  which  its  dignity   and   importance  demand. 

6.  But  let  us  not  be  afraid  to  give  religion  a  place 
in  our  hearts;  nor  under  the  pretext  of  fear  and  rev- 
erence, exclude  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  from  a  partici- 
pation in  our  thoughts.  Obed-edom  was  not  afraid  to, 
give  entertainment  to  the  ark,  though  an  awful  breach 
had  been  made  upon  Uzzah,  for  his  unhallowed  touch. 
And  we  need  not  be  afraid  to  give  the  God  of  Heaven 
a  residence  in  our  bosoms;  for  though  He  be  the  high 
and  lofty  one,  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  and  dwelleth  in 
the  high  and  holy  place, — yet  He  will  notice  with 
gracious  condescension  those  that  fear  Him,  and  will 
dwell  with  the  humble  and  contrite  ones.  He  will  re- 
vive their  spirit;  give  them  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning, 
and  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness. 
The  blessing  which  descended  upon  the  house  of  Obed- 
edom  will  descend  upon  them,  and  they  will  know  by 
joyful  experience,  that  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  who  dwelleth 
between  the  cherubim,  is  both  able  and  willing  to  re- 
ward his  servants. 

7.  The  solicitude  of  David  to  place  the  ark  in  the 
royal  city,  and  to  regulate  the  public  service  of  God 
according  to  the  prescribed  forms,  teaches  us  that  the 
externals  of  religion  are  not  to  be  disregarded,  but 
every  thing  to  be  done  with  decency  and  in  order;  and 
especially  his  great  attention  to  psalmody,  or  the 
manner  of  publicly  praising  God  in  the  congregation, 
shows  us  that  this   is  no  insignificant  part  of  divine 


THE    ARK   OF    THE    LORD.  131 

service,  even  in  the  Christian  church.  David  was  in- 
spired when  he  made  arrangements  for  the  music  to  be 
performed  in  the  pubhc  v/orship  of  God,  and  his  ex- 
ample is  therefore  more  worthy  of  our  imitation. 

8.  Let  not  the  people  of  God  be  surprised  if  their 
zeal  should  sometimes  be  thought  to  be  excessive. 
Michal  had  this  opinion  of  David.  She  despised  him 
for  his  lowliness  of  mind,  as  well  as  for  the  zeal  which 
he  manifested  in  the  public  worship  of  God.  But  he 
was  neither  discouraged  nor  mortified,  by  the  poignacy 
of  her  wit,  or  the  virulence  of  her  satire.  If  he  had 
been  vile,  he  was  willing  to  be  more  vile  and  base  in 
his  own  sight.  So  let  it  be  with  you,  my  Christian 
friends, — if  you  should  chance  to  meet  with  opposition 
or  contempt  for  your  attachment  to  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion. It  may  be  that  your  bosom  friends  or  dearest 
relatives  will  despise  you  in  their  hearts,  when  your 
zeal  overleaps  the  bounds  of  their  prudence  or  con- 
venience. But  remember  they  do  not  see  with  your 
eyes,  nor  with  the  eyes  of  the  living  God,  whose  laws, 
and  not  the  feelings  or  opinions  of  worldly  men,  are  to 
be  your  guide.  It  will  be  no  comfort  to  you,  on  your 
dying  bed,  that  you  followed  their  counsels,  or  regulated 
your  zeal  by  their  maxims.  Do  your  duty  as  in  the 
fear  of  God,  and  take  this  truth  along  with  you  for 
your  comfort, — that  whatever  derision  or  conflict  you 
may  now  suffer,  the  ark  and  its  friends  will  eventually 
prosper. 

9.  Do  we  desire  to  see  a  reformation  in  religion,  or 
the  return  of  God's  gracious  presence  in  the  midst  of 


132  THE   ARK   OF   THE   LORD. 

US?  The  conduct  of  David  in  bringing  up  the  ark 
may  furnish  us  important  instruction.  It  ^vill  teach  us 
that  this  is  an  object  of  the  first  importance,  and 
ought  to  awaken  all  our  zeal,  while  at  the  same  time, 
it  will  direct  us  to  take  measures  for  this  object,  with 
a  due  regard  to  the  divine  honour,  and  with  a  scru- 
pulous adherence  to  God's  w^ord.  Our  zeal  should  be 
both  enlightened  and  sanctified.  A  constant  care 
should  be  exercised  not  to  give  the  ark  an  unhallowed, 
unauthorized  touch.  It  is  the  ark  of  the  covenant; — 
the  ark  of  the  Lord  of  the  whole  earth.  He  w^ho 
dwelleth  between  the  cherubim  is  holy.  In  desiring 
the  return  of  the  Lord's  presence  w^ith  us,  we  should 
do  it  with  the  recollection  of  our  own  unworthiness, 
and  be  ready  to  say  with  David,  when  smitten  with  a 
sense  of  his  ow^n  guilt:  "How^  shall  the  ark  of  the 
Lord  come  unto  me?"  Perhaps  it  is  the  want  of  this 
self-abasement,  which  has  prevented,  so  to  speak,  the 
presence  of  the  ark  of  God,  in  the  midst  of  us.  0  let 
our  desires  for  this  object  be  fervent!  Let  our  prayers 
continually  ascend;  let  us  say — "Arise,  0  Lord,  into 
thy  rest;  thou,  and  the  ark  of  thy  strength.  Let  thy 
priests  be  clothed  with  righteousness;  and  let  thy  saints 
shout  for  joy."  This  is  an  object  in  which  all  should 
unite — old  and  young,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor. 
Here  is  work  enough  for  the  thousands  of  Israel; — and 
there  is  not  a  man  who  is  not  deeply  interested.  We 
should  be  animated  in  seeking  the  Lord's  special  pres- 
ence, from  the  gracious  language  w^iich  he  condescended 
to  hold  tow'ards  Zion.     "  The  Lord  hath  chosen  Zion; 


THE    ARK    OF    THE    LORD.  133 

he  hath  desired  it  for  his  habitation.  This  is  my  rest 
forever;  here  will  I  dwell;  fori  have  desired  it."  Let 
us  arise  and  plead  mightily  -vvith  him  to  lift  upon  us 
the  light  of  his  countenance,  and  restore  to  us  the  joys 
of  his  salvation. 


SERMON  VII. 


BEHAVIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOD'S  HOUSE. 


ECCLESIASTES,  VI.,  1. 

"  Keep  thy  foot  ivhen  thou  goesi  to  the  house  of  God,  and  be 
more  ready  to  hear,  than  to  give  the  sacrifice  of  fools. ''^ 

It  is  our  privilege,  my  brethren,  to  live  near  the  house 
of  God,  and  often  to  meet  within  its  sacred  walls.  We 
have  no  such  distance  to  travel,  to  pay  our  public  de- 
votions, as  had  the  ancient  church  of  Israel,  or  even  as 
many  have  now  in  our  own  land.  The  tabernacles  of 
the  Lord  are  easy  of  access  to  us,  and  the  doors  of  his 
sanctuary  may  be  said  to  stand  open  night  and  day. 
It  is  not  only  from  sabbath  to  sabbath,  but  at  seasons 
more  frequent  that  we  are  permitted  to  send  up  our 
prayers  and  thanksgivings  to  God  from  this  place,  and 
that  God  vouchsafes  here  to  address  us  by  those  who 
minister  in  his  name. 

Why  is  it  then  that  so  many  of  the  Lord's  people  are 
ready  to  cry  out,  amidst  this  profusion  of  means  and 
advantages, — "0  my  leanness  and  my  barrenness?" 
Why  is  it  that  so  many  others  go  and  come  to  this 
sacred  place  from  month  to  month,  and  year  to  year, 
without  perceiving  any  important  change  in  their  tem- 
pers, without  acquiring  the  spirit  of  Jehovah's  worship- 


BEHLWIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE.  135 

pers,  or  being  fitted  for  the  pure  and  sublime  devotion 
paid  him  by  his  saints  and  angels  in  the  courts  above? 
Is  there  no  reason  to  fear  that  we  have  too  often  over- 
looked the  salutary  caution  given  us  in  the  words  of 
the  text — "  Keep  thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  house 
of  God,  and  be  more  ready  to  hear  than  to  give  the 
sacrifice  of  fools  ?" 

I  am  constrained  to  say,  my  brethren,  that  if  our 
approaches  to  God  had  not  been  attended  with  some 
marked  and  criminal  defect,  we  should  have  experienced 
far  greater  blessings  from  the  ordinances  of  his  house 
than  we  have  recently  done;  we  should  have  found  a 
day  in  God's  courts  better  than  a  thousand;  our  s':^uls 
would  have  been  satisfied  with  marrow  and  fatness,  and 
•we  should  have  been  able  continually  to  praise  God 
with  joyful  lips.  It  would  have  been  seen  by  others  and 
felt  more  strongly  by  ourselves,  that  "  they  who  are 
planted  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  shall  flourish  in  the 
courts  of  our  God." 

My  design,  on  the  present  occasion,  is  to  consider 
the  manner  in  which  we  ought  to  attend  upon  the  duties 
of  the  sanctuary,  and  to  urge  a  serious  regard  to  this 
subject. 

We  shall  naturally  be  led  to  this  by  the  words  before 
us.  "  Keep  thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  house  of 
God,  and  be  more  ready  to  hear  than  to  give  or  offer 
the  sacrifice  of  fools." 

The  first  part  of  this  precept  may  be  considered  as  a 
solemn  caution  against  those  imperfections  which  are 
wont  to  attend  our  public  devotions.  *'  Keep  thy  foot 
when   thou  goest  to  the  house  of  God."     That  is,  in 


136  BEHAVIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE. 

general  terms,  do  not  step  heedlessly  or  carelessly,  but 
ponder  well  thy  path.  Remember  that  it  is  to  the  house 
of  God  that  thou  art  going;  that  it  is  to  sacrifice  to 
Him  who  is  perfectly  acquainted  with  all  thy  ways,  and 
whose  greatness  and  glory  demand  the  entire,  the 
unequivocal  homage  of  thy  heart.  Apprised  of  the 
temptations  which  lie  in  wait  for  thee,  exercise  a 
watchful  and  jealous  care  over  thy  thoughts,  thy  words 
and  actions;  that  thou  may  est  avoid  whatever  would  be 
offensive  to  God,  or  injurious  to  thyself  or  others  in  the 
duties  of  the  sanctuary. 

This,  in  few  words,  is  what  is  meant  by  "keeping 
our  foot  w^hen  we  go  to  the  house  of  God."  But  the 
duty  here  enjoined  is  of  such  high  importance  that  it 
deserves  to  be  considered  more  at  length.  There  are 
various  particulars,  concerning  which  the  most  jealous 
caution  and  circumspection  should  be  exercised,  if  we 
w^ould  enter  into  the  spirit  of  this  precept. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  we  should  beware  of  entering 
upon  the  duties  of  the  sanctuary  in  a  thoughtless  or 
inconsiderate  manner,  without  preparation  and  without 
an  object.  Many  hurry  away  to  the  house  of  God, 
when  the  appointed  hour  of  public  service  arrives, 
without  considering  at  all  with  themselves,  what  object 
they  have  in  view.  They  go  because  others  go,  and 
because  they  themselves  have  often  been,  without  re- 
flecting upon  the  duties  to  be  performed,  or  the  deep 
and  solemn  interest  which  they  have  in  those  duties. 

There  are  others  who,  possessed  of  more  principle, 
attend  the  public  devotions  of  the  sanctuary  from  a  con- 
viction of  duty,   but  who  attend   them  without  any 


137 

solemn  preparation.  They  stop  not  to  consider  whose 
altars  they  approach;  what  sacrifices  are  required  of 
them;  and  whether  these  sacrifices  are  offered  with 
clean  or  unclean  hands.  They  rush  into  God's  presence 
as  the  horse  rusheth  to  the  battle,  without  that  self-col- 
lection and  awe  which  are  indispensable  to  acceptable 
worshippers. 

We  should  beware  of  such  inconsideration,  my  breth- 
ren, if  we  would  keep  our  foot  when  we  go  to  the  house 
of  God: — and  instead  of  coming  into  his  presence  in 
this  careless  and  irreverent  manner,  we  should,  as 
much  as  possible,  contemplate  beforehand  the  solemn 
business  we  have  to  transact  with  him,  and  earnestly 
implore  the  gracious  aids  of  his  blessed  Spirit.  We 
should  say  with  the  pious  David,  "  0  send  out  thy  light 
and  thy  truth;  let  them  lead  me;  let  them  bring  me 
unto  thy  holy  hill,  and  to  thy  tabernacles;  then  will  I 
go  unto  the  altar  of  God,  unto  God,  my  exceeding  joy." 
But, 

2.  If  we  should  beware  of  coming  to  the  house  of 
God  in  a  careless  and  inconsiderate  manner,  and  as  it 
were  without  any  specific  object,  we  should  be  no  less 
solicitous  to  avoid  coming  with  improper  motives.  We 
should  never  enter  the  sanctuary  to  pass  away  an  idle 
hour,  which  otherwise  might  hang  heavily  upon  our 
hands.  We  should  never  approach  this  sacred  place, 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  entertainment,  as  men  visit 
the  theatre  or  the  ball  room; — while  our  thoughts  and 
desires  are  far  away  from  the  great  objects  for  which 
divine  service  was  appointed.  We  should  never  come 
hither  with  the  empty  design  of  seeing  or  being  seen, 
13 


138  BEHAVIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE. 

and  much  less  for  the  purpose  of  making  arrangements 
for  business  or  pleasure,  the  remainder  of  the  week. 
Far  nobler  objects  should  possess  our  hearts  in  such  a 
place  and  on  such  an  occasion.  We  should  come  to 
worship  the  King  eternal;  to  pay  him  homage,  as  our 
Creator  and  Lord; — we  should  come  to  hear  what  God 
the  Lord  will  say  unto  us  by  his  messengers,  or  by  his 
Spirit; — to  learn  more  of  his  character  and  of  our  duty, 
and  to  have  our  hearts  inflamed  with  love  to  him  and 
to  one  another.  We  should  come,  in  a  word,  to  pre- 
pare for  death  and  eternity, — to  get  our  minds  abstracted 
from  the  world,  our  affections  deadened  towards  it,  and 
our  thoughts,  our  desires,  our  hopes  supremely  placed 
on  Heaven. 

3.  If  we  will  keep  our  foot  when  we  go  to  the 
house  of  God,  we  must  not  only  attend  to  the  motives 
which  carry  us  thither,  but  to  the  whole  of  our  de- 
portment while  we  are  before  the  Lord.  We  must  see 
to  it  that  our  external  carriage  be  such  as  becomes  the 
w^orshippers  of  Jehovah.  Not  light  and  frivolous  as 
though  we  were  in  a  play-house, — not  morose  and 
gloomy  as  though  our  God  delighted  in  austere  and 
cruel  rites;  —  but  serene  and  solemn  as  those  who 
.vorship  a  Being  of  infinite  perfection,  and  who  ar- 
dently desire  to  secure  his  friendship.  Our  eye  must 
not  wander  over  the  assembly  of  our  fellow  worshippers, 
as  if  it  were  our  chief  business  to  observe  their  dress  or 
demeanor,  nor  must  we  recline  in  the  posture  of  in- 
dolence as  if  we  took  no  interest  in  the  duties  of  God's 
appointment,  and  were  only  anxious  for  the  tedious 
service  to  close.     The  whole  of  our  external  demeanor 


BEHAVIOUR    APPROPRIATE    TO    GOd's    HOUSE.  139 

should  be  marked  with  gravity  and  devotion,  for  God 
is  to  be  worshipped  with  our  bodies,  as  well  as  with 
our  spirits. 

A  far  more  important  article  however  is,  that  our  in- 
ward man  should  be  duly  regulated;  that  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  our  hearts  should  be  such  as  a  holy  and 
omniscient  God  will  approve.  It  is  the  heart  which 
God  chiefly  looks  at  in  our  devotions.  Should  we  bow 
before  him  with  the  apparent  reverence  of  adoring 
seraphim,  it  would  be  vain,  unless  our  hearts  were 
right  with  him.  God  cannot  be  deceived,  and  he  will 
not  be  mocked.  We  should  be  careful  to  avoid  all 
vain  and  unseasonable  thoughts  on  such  occasions,  and 
to  have  our  minds  exclusively  fixed  on  the  great  busi- 
ness to  be  transacted  between  God  and  our  souls. 
This  is  often  a  work  of  difficulty.  Our  hearts  are 
naturally  unstable  as  water,  continually  changing  the 
objects  of  their  attention,  wandering  sometimes  like 
the  fool's  eyes  in  the  ends  of  the  earth,  instead  of  being 
absorbed  in  the  duty  in  which  we  are  professedly 
engaged.  We  have  need  to  bring  a  solemn  and 
earnest  spirit  with  us  to  the  place  of  our  devotions,  if 
we  would  counteract  the  temptation  which  arises  to  us 
from  this  quarter.  We  must  verily  believe  that  there 
is  a  God, — that  this  is  the  house  of  God, — that  these 
are  his  worshippers,  and  this  his  service, — a  service  in 
which  we  are  deeply  and  eternally  interested,  before 
we  can  say  with  the  devout  psalmist,  "  O  God  my 
heart  is  fixed,  my  heart  is  fixed,  I  will  sing  and  give 
praise  even  with  my  glory." 

But  it  is  not  enough  that  we  keep  our  foot  when  we 


140 

go  to  the  house  of  God,  we  must  be  "  more  ready  to 
hear,  than  to  give  the  sacrifice  of  fools."  We  must 
indulge  a  spirit  of  solemn  and  devout  inquiry;  we 
must  feel  a  disposition  to  know  and  practice  the  will 
of  God.  But  as  this-part  of  the  exhortation  relates  to 
a  specific  and  important  duty,  too  often  performed  in  a 
very  unprofitable  manner,  we  beg  you  to  give  it  a 
serious  and  prayerful  consideration.  "  Be  more  ready 
to  hear,"  says  the  voice  of  inspiration,  "  than  to  give 
the  sacrifice  of  fools" — as  though  we  were  in  danger 
of  playing  the  part  of  fools  in  the  house  of  God,  instead 
of  humbly  and  earnestly  listening  to  his  voice.  There 
are  many  occasions  when  we  actually  do  this;  when 
we  are  nothing  the  better,  but  probably  the  worse,  for 
our  attendance  upon  the  services  of  the  sanctuary; 
when  instead  of  being  brought  near  to  God  in  the 
prayers  which  are  offered,  or  in  the  truths  which  are 
delivered,  we  go  away  with  our  thoughts  dissipated 
and  our  hearts  hardened.  We  have  seen  nothing  of 
God,  nothing  of  ourselves,  no  good  purpose  has  been 
formed  in  us,  no  grace  awakened,  no  virtue  strength- 
ened, no  sinful  passion  mortified. 

To  avoid  this  unprofitable  attendance  upon  the  house 
of  God,  the  wise  man  exhorts  us  to  be  more  ready  to 
hear  than  to  give  the  sacrifice  of  fools.  But  how  should 
we  hear,  if  we  would  come  up  to  the  spirit  of  this  pre- 
cept?    We  should  hear 

1.  With    attention,  in   opposition  to  a  careless  or 
distracted  frame  of  mind.     It  is  but  an  act  of  decency 
to  be  seriously  attentive  to  what  is  uttered  in  God's ' 
name.     Besides,  of  what  consequence  will  it  be  that 


141 

the  preacher  addresses  us  on  subjects  deeply  interesting 
to  our  eternal  destiny,  if  our  minds  are  occupied  with 
other  things?  Can  we  expect  to  be  instructed  or  edified, 
if,  instead  of  distinctly  marking  the  several  parts  of  his 
discourse,  and  weighing  each  sentiment  as  it  passes 
from  his  lips,  our  imaginations  are  wandering  over  our 
farms,  or  transacting  the  business  of  our  families,  or 
secretly  taken  up  with  the  advantages  or  disadvantages 
of  a  bargain?  But  in  hearing  the  word  of  God  atten- 
tively, it  is  important  to  remark,  that  our  attention 
should  be  directed  more  to  the  truth  itself  than  to  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  communicated.  It  is  the  truth 
which  instructs  and  edifies.  "  Sanctify  them  through 
thy  truth,"  said  our  Lord,  "  thy  word  is  truth."  It 
is  by  manifestation  of  the  truth  to  every  man's  con- 
science in  the  sight  of  God,  that  the  great  object 
of  preaching  and  hearing  the  gospel,  is  attained. 
Believers  therefore  are  considered  not  only  as  having 
purified  their  souls  by  obeying  the  truth,  but  as  being 
begotten  by  the  word  of  truth;  as  born  again,  not  of 
corruptible,  but  of  incorruptible  seed,  by  the  word  of 
God,  which  liveth  and  abideth  forever. 

Whatever  has  not  truth  for  its  basis,  however  much 
it  may  gratify  our  taste,  or  delight  our  imaginations,  is 
like  a  gilded  cloud,  which  passes  pleasantly  before  the 
eye,  for  a  moment,  but  presently  disappears,  and  leaves 
no  trace  of  its  form  or  beauty  behind.  We  want  some- 
thing to  fix  our  principles,  and  to  operate  as  a  constant 
and  powerful  spring  to  our  actions.  Nothing  but  the 
truths  of  God's  word,  carried  home  to  our  consciences, 
wull  do  this.  To  these,  therefore,  should  our  attention; 
13* 


142 

be  principally  directed,  when  the  servants  of  the  Lord 
address  us  in  his  name.     We  observe 

2.  That  if  we  would  be  more  ready  to  hear  than  to 
give  the  sacrifice  of  fools,  we  must  listen  to  the  word 
w^ith  reverence;  that  is  to  say,  we  must  hear  it  as  the 
word  of  God,  not  as  the  word  of  man.  We  must  not 
consider  the  preacher  as  coming  to  play  a  part  before 
us  for  an  hour,  while  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
judge  of  the  success  with  which  that  part  is  played; 
we  must  consider  him  as  an  ambassador  of  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  charged  with  a  solemn  message  to  our  souls. 
We  must  regard  him  as  actually  coming  in  God's  name 
and  in  effect  speaking  the  words  of  God.  So  far  as  he 
speaks  according  to  the  sacred  oracles,  this  is  the  fact; 
and  it  is  a  fact  w^hich  should  be  distinctly  recognised 
by  us.  Too  often  is  God  overlooked  in  the  administra- 
tion of  his  word:  what  is  heard  is  not  regarded  as  the 
authoritative  voice  of  Jehovah,  though  it  may  be  uttered 
in  language  which  he  himself  has  dictated,  but  as  the 
simple  unauthorised  effort  of  human  talents  and  skill. 
It  is  not  surprising,  in  these  circumstances,  that  the  w^ord 
of  the  Lord  should  produce  so  little  effect;  that  it  should 
so  seldom  come  to  us  in  the  demonstration  of  the  Spirit 
and  with  power.  Confining  our  attention  to  the  mere 
instrument,  we  lose  sight  of  our  relations  to  God,  and 
of  those  tremendous  sanctions  of  divine  authority, 
which  make  the  w^ords  of  truth  enter  into  the  soul. 
We  may  be  greatly  interested,  and  even  fascinated,  with 
the  power  of  the  speaker,  while  our  hearts  are  in  no 
degree  edified  by  the  truth  he  delivers.  We  may  go 
from  the  walls  of  God's  sanctuary,  admiring  and  prais- 


143 

ing  the  gifts  of  those  who  minister  to  us  in  his  name, 
while  the  Lord  hath  sent  leanness  into  our  soul.  Then 
only  shall  we  profit  by  the  labours  of  his  servants,  when 
God's  voice  is  heard  in  their  voice  ;  when  w^e  reverence 
their  message  as  the  message  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  and 
honor  them  chiefly  for  their  Master's  sake. 

I  speak  more  freely  on  this  subject,  because  I  believe 
it  to  be  a  fault  among  Christians  of  the  present  day, — 
a  fault  chargeable  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  to  every 
one  of  us,  that  God  is  so  much  left  out  of  the  account  in 
the  administration  of  his  w^ord; — that  this  part  of  divine 
service  is  considered  rather  as  a  matter  of  entertain- 
ment than  as  a  solemn  institution  of  Heaven,  designed 
for  our  benefit. 

I  tremble  to  think  how  this  must  appear  in  the  eyes 
of  the  great  God,  who  is  jealous  for  his  name,  and  who 
will  not  see  his  ordinances  perverted  w^ithout  testifying 
his  displeasure.  I  blush  to  think  how  it  must  be  re- 
garded by  the  holy  Angels,  who  are  the  witnesses  of 
our  devotions,  and  who  know^  with  what  solemnity  we 
ought  to  hear  that  word  which  shall  judge  us  in  the 
great  and  last  day.  And  I  doubt  not  that  we  shall  all 
be  astonished  at  our  own  guilt  and  folly  in  this  particu- 
lar, when  we  see  more  distinctly  our  relations  to  another 
world;,  w^hen  eternity,  and  not  time,  shall  become  the 
principal  object  of  our  attention.  But  I  hasten  to  ob- 
serve, 

3.  That  if  we  hear  the  word  of  God,  as  w^e  ought  to  do, 
we  must  hear  it  with  an  humble  and  teachable  dispo- 
sition, in  opposition  to  a  proud  and  captious  spirit. 
This  our  Lord  inculcated  upon  his  disciples,  when  he 


144 

said,  "  whosoever  shall  not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God, 
as  a  little  child,  shall  in  no  case  enter  therein."  And 
the  apostle  Peter  had  the  same  thing  in  view,  when  he 
exhorted  believers  to  "  receive  w4th  meekness  the  in- 
grafted word  of  truth,  which  was  able  to  save  their 
souls."  It  is  the  meek,  whom  God  hath  promised  to 
"  guide  in  judgment, — the  meek  whom  he  will  teach 
his  way."  They  who  dispense  the  word  are  required 
to  do  it  with  a  spirit  of  meekness  and  humility;  and 
they  who  hear  must  have  the  same  spirit.  There  can- 
not be  a  readiness  to  hear  where  an  humble  child-like 
spirit  is  wanting.  There  may  be  a  disposition  to  in- 
quire, or  rather  to  speculate,  and  build  systems  of  our 
own;  but  there  can  be  no  disposition  to  receive  the 
great  and  soul  humbling  truths  of  the  gospel,  till  we 
are  in  some  measure  humbled  ourselves.  Our  pride 
must  be  laid  in  the  dust,  before  we  shall  be  willing  to 
take  the  account  which  God  has  given  us  of  his  cha- 
racter or  of  our  own.  We  shall  then  only  be  willing 
to  hear  and  learn  of  the  Father,  when  we  are  willing 
to  place  God  on  the  throne,  and  ourselves  at  his  foot- 
stool. Mary  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  listening  with  joy  to 
the  gracious  words  which  fell  from  his  lips,  is  an  ex- 
ample of  that  humble  and  teachable  spirit  which  ought 
to  inspire  our  bosoms,  when  we  attend  upon  the  in- 
structions of  the  sanctuary. 

4.  Let  us  add  to  this,  as  an  important  circumstance, 
that  we  should  hear  the  word  of  God  with  close  and 
pointed  application  to  ourselves.  Many  a  judicious 
sermon  has  been  lost  for  want  of  being  personally  ap- 
plied by  the  hearers.      What  does  it  avail  that  the 


BEHAVIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE.  145 

character  of  individuals  is  drawn  with  great  particu- 
larity, that  their  sins  and  dangers  are  pointed  out  with 
a  bold  and  faithful  hand,  if  these  individuals  never 
bring  the  subject  home  to  themselves;  if,  after  being 
told  every  thing,  but  "  thou  art  the  man,"  they  are  still 
looking  on  the  right  hand  or  on  the  left,  to  discover  the 
person  to  whom  the  observation  or  reproof  applies? 
Alas!  my  dear  brethren,  what  is  more  deceitful  than 
the  human  heart;  and  where  does  its  deceitfulness  more 
often  appear,  than  in  the  artifice  employed  to  hide  from 
its  own  views  the  unsightly  image  of  itself  frequently  and 
faithfully  presented  in  the  glass  of  God's  word? 

How  ardently  should  we  pray,  "  Search  me,  0  God, 
and  know  me,  try  my  reins  and  my  heart.  Let  the 
light  of  divine  truth  penetrate  the  dark  recesses  of  my 
soul.  Let  thy  word,  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper 
than  a  two-edged  sword,  pierce  to  the  dividing  asunder 
of  soul  and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and 
become  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  my 
heart." 

5.  I  remark,  that  w^e  shall  but  offer  the  sacrifice  of 
fools,  unless  we  hear  the  word  of  God,  with  faith  and 
love,  and  especially  with  a  desire  to  obey.  Founded 
on  the  veracity  of  Jehovah,  it  demands  the  full  and  un- 
wavering assent  of  our  hearts.  Containing  a  glorious 
system  of  truth  and  duty,  it  ought  to  be  sincerely  loved 
by  us,  and  strictly  and  conscientiously  obeyed. 

To  obey  is  better  than  sacrifice,  and  to  hearken  than 
the  fat  of  rams.  It  is  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  bring- 
ing our  hearts  to  the  obedience  of  the  truth,  that  the 
truth  is  proclaimed  in  our  ears.     This  is  constantly 


146  BEILWIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE. 

held  up  as  the  great  end  of  all  the  instructions,  warn- 
ings and  reproofs  of  the  scripture;  and  the  very  per- 
fection of  scripture  itself  is  characterized  by  this  cir- 
cumstance,— "that  it  is  profitable  for  doctrine,  for 
reproof,  and  for  instruction  in  righteousness,  that  the 
man  of  God  may  be  thoroughly  furnished  unto  every 
good  work."  We  cannot  be  said  to  hear  the  word  of 
God  in  the  highest  and  best  sense"of  the  expression, 
unless  we  obey;  for,  in  the  language  of  scripture,  it  is 
often  one  and  the  same  thing.  "  Hear  0  my  people," 
saith  God,  "  and  I  will  testify  unto  thee,  O  Israel,  if 
thou  wilt  hearken  unto  me;  there  shall  no  strange  God 
be  within  thee;  neither  shalt  thou  worship  any  strange 
god.  But  my  people  would  not  hearken  to  my  voice, 
and  Israel  would  none  of  me."  That  is,  they  would 
not  obey.  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  thy  Redeemer,  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel,  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  which 
teacheth  thee  to  profit,  which  leadeth  thee  by  the  way 
that  thou  shouldst  go.  0  that  thou  hadst  hearkened 
to  my  commandments!  Then  had  thy  peace  been  as  a 
river,  and  thy  righteousness  as  the  waves  of  the  sea!" 
O  that  thou  hadst  hearkened  to  my  commandments! — 
that  is,  that  thou  hadst  kept  them.  "  Put  your  burnt 
offerings  unto  your  sacrifices  (saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts,) 
and  eat  flesh.  For  I  spake  not  unto  your  fathers,  nor 
commanded  them,  in  the  day  that  I  brought  them  out 
of  the  land  of  Egypt,  concerning  burnt-offerings  and 
sacrifices; — but  this  thing  commanded  I  them,  saying, 
obey  my  voice,  and  I  will  be  your  God  and  ye  shall  be 
my  people.  But  they  hearkened  not,  nor  inclined  their 
ear;" — that  is  they  did  not  obey — "  but  walked  in  the 


BEHAVIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE.  147 

counsels  and  in  the  imagination  of  their  evil  heart,  and 
went  backward,  and  not  forward." 

These  scriptures,  while  they  teach  us  that  to  hear 
and  obey  God  is  often  identical,  suggest  to  us  also,  the 
immense  importance  of  obedience.  They  teach  us  that 
all  our  sacrifices  and  oblations  will  be  vain  without 
this; — that  it  will  be  to  no  purpose  that  we  appear  in 
the  house  of  God  and  join  in  hearing  his  word  and 
offering  our  prayers  and  praises  to  him,  unless  it  issue 
in  a  spirit  of  obedience  to  his  will. 

I  close  this  discourse,  my  brethren,  by  urging  a 
serious  attention  to  the  subject  now  laid  before  you, 
"  Keep  thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  house  of  God, 
and  be  more  ready  to  hear  than  to  give  the  sacrifice  of 
fools." 

This  is  the  voice  of  Jehovah  himself  directing  his 
own  worshippers.  Shall  not  we  regard  it  as  such;  shall 
we  not  set  a  double  watch  over  our  hearts — nay  over 
the  whole  of  our  demeanor,  when  we  come  into  his 
sanctuary?  "  Yes,"  let  us  say — "  God  is  to  be  feared 
in  the  assembly  of  his  saints:  to  be  had  in  reverence  of 
all  them  that  are  round  about  him."  While  ^ve  would 
not  be  rash  or  hasty  to  utter  anything  in  his  presence, 
let  us  not  trifle  with  any  thing  uttered  in  his  name. 
Remembering  that  God  is  in  Heaven,  and  we  upon 
earth,  let  us  approach  him  with  reverence;  let  us  hear 
him  with  submission;  and  let  the  w^hole  of  our  services 
begin  and  end  in  him. 

Again:  We  urge  this,  not  only  because  God  com- 
manded it,  but  because  it  is  in  itself  reasonable.  Su(  h 
a  service  is  due  to  the  great  God  of  the  universe,  who 


148 

gave  us  our  being  and  all  our  powers: — any  thing 
short  of  this  is  reproachful  to  his  honour,  and  unworthy 
of  the  relation  we  bear  to  him.  The  worship  of  his 
people  on  earth  should  bear  a  resemblance  to  the  wor- 
ship paid  him  in  Heaven.  The  service  of  the  lower 
sanctuary  should,  in  all  its  parts,  be  celebrated  not  only 
with  reference  to  the  sanctuary  above,  but  in  the  same 
spirit, — and  be  only  a  joyful  anticipation  of  that  exalted 
service,  which  shall  employ  our  enlarged  and  sanctified 
powers  throughout  the  ages  of  eternity. 

O  what  preaching,  what  hearing,  what  praying, 
should  we  have,  could  our  eyes  be  fixed  on  the  temple 
above,  and  our  devotions  kindled  from  the  fire  of  those 
altars,  which  burn  with  increasing  brightness  before 
the  throne  of  God  forever. 

But  I  ask,  my  dear  friends,  what  will  it  profit  us  to 
appear  in  the  house  of  God,  unless  we  attend  upon  its 
services  in  the  manner  which  God  has  prescribed? 
Shall  we  enjoy  him  in  his  ordinances?  Shall  we  find 
the  temple  of  God  a  bethel;  and  be  made  to  say  with 
Jacob,  "  Surely  this  is  none  other  than  the  house  of 
God,  and  the  very  gate  of  Heaven?"  Shall  we  find 
our  souls  penetrated  with  the  light  of  divine  truth, 
humbled  under  a  sense  of  our  sins,  consoled  with  the 
hopes  of  pardon, — animated  to  run  in  the  way  of  God's 
commandments, — and,  in  a  word,  made  meet  for  the 
service  and  bliss  of  the  heavenly  world?  No,  my  dear 
friends,  none  of  these  blessings  will  attend  us,  unless 
we  keep  our  foot  when  we  go  to  the  house  of  God. 
So  far  from  it,  our  sacrifices  will  be  unavailing,  as  the 
sacrifice  of  fools;  nay  it  will  be  an  abomination  unto 


BEHAVIOUR  APPROPRIATE  TO  GOd's  HOUSE.  149 

the  Lord.  Privileges  abused  have  a  natural  tendency 
to  harden  the  heart  and  to  blind  the  mind.  They 
often  provoke  God  to  give  men  up  as  incorrigible,  or 
to  remove  from  them  the  advantages  they  have  enjoyed. 

Certain  it  is  that  if  we  are  not  brought  to  wait  upon 
God  here  on  earth,  in  the  spirit  of  true  worshippers, 
we  shall  never  be  fitted  for  his  temple  above; — nay,  all 
the  means  we  have  enjoyed  in  the  sanctuary  below, — 
the  sermons  we  have  heard — the  prayers  and  thanks- 
givings in  which  we  have  joined, — will  sink  us  to 
deeper  despair  in  the  world  of  woe.  Yes,  if  we  do 
not  learn  to  keep  our  foot,  when  we  go  to  the  house  of 
God,  and  be  more  ready  to  hear  than  to  give  the 
sacrifice  of  fools,  we  shall  finally  curse  the  day  and  the 
place  of  our  birth;  we  shall  wish  that  we  had  been 
born  among  the  savage  tribes  of  the  wilderness,  where 
no  temples  of  God  are  to  be  seen,  no  voice  of  mercy 
is  heai'd,  rather  than  in  places,  near  the  doors  of  'he 
sanctuary,  where  from  our  infancy,  the  public  worship 
of  God  has  been  celebrated,  and  the  oracles  of  divine 
truth  explained. 

Let  it  be  our  constant  and  fervent  prayer  to  God, 
that  his  Spirit  may  be  poured  out  upon  us,  and  our 
hearts  so  trained  to  his  service  here  on  earth,  that  we 
may  enjoy  the  comfort  of  his  presence  in  this  world, 
and  finally  be  made  pillars  in  that  temple  of  Qrlory, 
where  we  shall  go  no  more  out. 


14 


SERMON  VIII. 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 


JOB,  I.,  9. 

Then  Satan  answered  the  Lord  and  said,  Doth  Job  fear  God 
for  nought  ? 

The  book  of  Job  is  nearly  all  written  in  Hebrew 
verse,  in  the  dramatic  form,  and  is  certainly  one  of  the 
most  ancient  and  sublime  poems  in  the  world.  We  are 
not  certain,  at  this  distance  of  time,  who  was  the  au- 
thor; some  ascribing  it  to  Moses,  others  to  Ezra,  and 
others  to  one  of  the  prophets.  All,  however,  agree 
that  it  is  a  poem  written  under  the  influence  of  divine 
inspiration,  founded  substantially  in  fact,  and  contain- 
ing important  instructions  in  relation  to  our  duty. 

That  there  was  such  a  man  as  Job,  distinguished  for 
his  suiferings  and  his  virtues,  admits  of  no  dispute. 
He  is  numbered  among  the  most  eminent  saints  by  the 
prophet  Ezekiel;  and  St.  James  says,  "  Ye  have  heard 
of  the  patience  of  Job,  and  have  seen  the  end  of  the 
Lord;  that  the  Lord  is  very  pitiful  and  of  tender  mercy 
to  those  that  fear  him." 

As  to  the  authority  of  this  ancient  book,  it  may  be 
sufficient  to  observe  that  it  has  always  been  reckoned 
as  a  part  of  the  inspired  volume,  both  by  Jewish  and 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  151 

Christian  writers,  and  is  frequently  referred  to  in  the 
Psalms,  in  the  prophets,  and  in  the  writings  of  the 
apostles  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  We  consider  the  his- 
torical parts  of  it,  therefore,  as  a  correct  and  faithful 
narrative  of  the  sufferings  and  patience  of  an  eminent 
servant  of  God,  of  the  happy  issue  to  which  his  suffer- 
ings were  finally  brought,  and  of  the  different  opinions 
which  were  entertained  of  the  dispensations  of  Provi- 
dence in  that  early  period  of  the  world. 

In  the  chapter  before  us,  a  brief  statement  is  given 
of  Job's  remarkable  piety,  amidst  the  greatest  worldly 
affluence, — a  situation  so  intoxicating  to  human  pride, 
and  so  ensnaring  to  all  the  corrupt  passions  of  the 
heart,  that  few  are  able  to  withstand  the  temptations 
it  presents,  and  fewer  still,  to  exhibit  in  such  circum- 
stances an  example  of  piety  and  moderation. 

On  some  occasion,  when  the  sons  of  God  had  met 
together,  and  Satan  their  watchful  adversary  appeared 
among  them,  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan,  "  Hast  thou 
considered  my  servant  Job,  that  there  is  none  like  him 
in  all  the  earth,  a  perfect  and  an  upright  man,  one  that 
feareth  God,  and  eschew eth  evil?"  To  which  Satan 
replied,  "  Doth  Job  fear  God  for  nought?  Hast  thou 
not  made  a  hedge  about  him,  and  about  all  that  he 
hath  on  every  side.  Thou  hast  blessed  the  work  of  his 
hands,  and  his  substance  is  increased  in  the  land.  But 
put  forth  now  thine  hand  and  touch  all  that  he  hath, 
and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face;"  hereby  intimating 
that  Job  was  completely  selfish  in  all  his  religious 
services;  that  he  was  dutiful  to  God,  because  God  was 
bountiful  to  him;  but  that  in  a  change  of  circumstan- 


152  DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

ces,  all  his  piety  and  virtue  would  fall  to  the  ground. 
As  if  the  adversary  had  said,  "  Let  it  be  seen  that  he 
is  no  longer  protected  and  blessed  by  the  power  that  he 
worships,  and  instead  of  the  sacrifices  which  he  now 
offers  and  the  multiplied  prayers  which  he  presents,  he 
will  despise  thine  altars,  and  blaspheme  the  authority 
which  thou  hast  set  up." 

This  is  manifestly  the  spirit  of  Satan's  accusation 
against  Job;  and  though  it  was  dictated  by  malevo- 
lence, and  designed  perhaps  to  justify  his  own  rebellion, 
it  goes  to  the  establishment  of  this  important  truth — 
that  true  religion  is  by  no  means  founded  on  the  nar- 
row principles  of  self-interest,  but  on  the  broad  basis 
of  disinterested  and  benevolent  affection;  or,  in 
other  words,  in  that  pure  and  holy  love  which  is  the 
radical  principle  of  all  acceptable  obedience. 

The  object  of  this  discourse  will  be  to  illustrate  and 
confirm  this  sentiment.  And  so  important  do  we  con- 
sider it,  that  we  cannot  but  respectfully  and  earnestly 
solicit  a  careful  attention  to  the  remarks  which  are 
intended  to  be  offered.  It  is  not  our  design  to  make 
an  attack  upon  any  man's  creed,  nor  are  we  anxious 
that  others  should  adopt  the  very  words  and  phrases 
which  we  employ.  But  we  desire  that  the  truth  should 
appear,  and  appear  in  such  an  attractive  and  convincing 
form  as  to  gain  a  lodgment  in  every  conscience  and 
heart. 

That  true  religion  is  not  a  selfish,  but  a  disinterested 
affection,  terminating  in  the  excellence  of  God's 
character,  the  glory  of  his  great  name  and  the  welfare 
of  his  kingdom,  we  think  might  easily  be  demonstrated 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  153 

from  the  tenor  of  the  divine  law, —the  sum  of  which  is, 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  hearty 
and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with 
all  thy  strength,  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself"  Love 
is  the  fulfilling  of  this  law;  and  of  course  comprehends 
the  whole  of  our  duty.  For  when  we  have  loved  to 
the  full  extent  of  the  precept,  and  expressed  our  love 
in  such  manner  as  our  conditions  and  relations  demand, 
nothing  more  is  left  to  be  done.  All  that  we  owe  to 
God,  to  ourselves  or  to  our  neighbour,  is  completely 
discharged.  But  what  kind  of  love  is  that,  which  thus 
meets  all  the  requisitions  of  the  Divine  law?  Does  it 
not  embrace  a  love  of  complacency  towards  him,  whose 
character  is  supremely  excellent,  and  towards  those  who 
bear  his  image,  while  it  includes  a  love  of  benevolence 
or  good  will  towards  every  being  capable  of  enjoyment? 

That  this  is  not  a  mere  selfish  affection,  is  evident 
not  only  from  the  terms  of  the  law  in  which  it  is  ex- 
pressed, but  from  the  fact  that  God's  law  is  a  transcript 
of  his  own  heart,  and  that  we  are  required  to  be  like 
God  and  like  Christ,  whose  love  is  certainly  not  selfish, 
but  in  the  highest  degree  disinterested. 

Were  not  this  the  case  indeed,  how  could  loving  our 
enemies,  doing  good  to  those  that  hate  us,  and  praying 
for  those  that  despitefully  use  us  and  persecute  us,  become 
a  part  of  our  duty?  Or  will  it  be  pretended  that  we 
can  love  those  that  hate  us,  from  motives  of  self  in- 
terest? 

Whatever  may  be  said  for  the  support  of  a  favourite 
theory,  I  believe  it  will  not  be  regarded  as  consonant 
to  our  experience,  that  the  love  we  have  for  ourselves 
14* 


154  DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

exerts  any  influence  in  generating  kind  affections 
towards  those  who  oppose  us,  and  who  do  all  in  their 
power  to  destroy  us.  It  is  common  in  such  cases  to 
feel  the  spirit  of  hostility  stirred  within  us,  and  to  re- 
turn evil  for  evil,  and  railing  for  railing;  and  it  is  only 
when  that  holy  and  benevolent  love  is  in  exercise, 
which  subdues  the  selfish  feelings  of  the  heart,  that  we 
are  enabled  to  love  and  sincei'ely  to  bless  our  enemy. 

My  design,  however,  is  not  to  argue  so  much  from 
abstract  principles,  as  to  illu.strate  this  truth  from  the 
case  of  Job  himself  The  causes,  the  circumstances, 
and  the  issue  of  his  afflictions,  all  conspire  to  show  that 
true  religion  is  not  a  selfish  thing,  but  is  founded  in 
love  of  a  holy  and  disinterested  character. 

God,  you  will  observe,  had  spoken  well  of  his  ser- 
vant Job^  as  a  perfect  and.  upright  man, — one  who 
feared  Him  and  eschewed  evil.  Satan  disputes  the 
justness  of  this  account,  and  alledges  that  Job's  seeming 
goodness  was  the  result  of  self-interest,  and  therefore 
that,  in  other  circumstances,  he  would  hate  and  reproach 
that  very  Being,  whom  he  now  professed  to  love  and 
adore.  The  Lord  answered,  "  I  will  put  the  character  of 
my  servant  to  trial.  If  he  serves  me  only  because  I  have 
made  a  hedge  about  him  and  about  all  that  he  hath,  and 
would  curse  me  to  my  face,  if  my  favour  towards  him 
were  removed,  let  it  be  ascertained  by  the  trial.  Be- 
hold all  that  he  hath  is  in  thy  power;  remove  it  when 
and  how  thou  wilt,  only  upon  himself  put  not  forth 
thy  hand." 

With  this  permission  Satan  began  his  work;  and 
the  more  effectually  to  surprise  and  overwhelm  Job,  he 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  155 

contrives  to  throw  him  from  the  height  of  his  pros- 
perity to  the  deepest  adversity,  in  one  day.  First, 
the  Sabeans  plunder  him  of  his  oxen  which  were 
ploughing  in  the  field,  and  of  the  asses  which  were 
feeding  beside  them,  slaying  the  servants  with  the  edge 
of  the  sword.  Next,  fire  comes  down  from  heaven  and 
burns  up  the  sheep  snd  the  servants  who  fed  them. 
Then  the  Chaldeans  make  out  three  bands,  and  fall 
upon  the  camels,  and  carry  them  away,  slaying  the 
servants  with  the  edge  of  the  sword.  And  last  of  all, 
to  complete  the  desolating  scene,  a  great  wind  from 
the  wilderness  smites  the  four  corners  of  his  eldest 
son's  house,  where  all  his  children  were  assembled  for 
the  purpose  of  eating  and  drinking,  and  instantly  buries 
them  in  its  ruins,  thus  sweeping  forever  from  his  sight 
all  that  a  fond  parent  could  hope  from  being  surrounded 
and  sustained  by  his  beloved  children.  Perhaps  too, 
as  they  were  suddenly  cut  off  in  the  morning  of  their 
days,  his  pious  heart  might  be  smitten  with  fear  lest 
they  were  taken  away  in  wrath,  and  had  gone  to 
people  the  world  of  wo. 

But  what  was  the  effect  of  these  sudden  and  compli- 
cated trials?  Did  Job  forget  his  obligations  to  God, 
as  Satan  had  predicted?  Did  he  cease  to  adore  that 
eternal  power  from  whom  his  existence  and  all  his 
comforts  w^ere  derived?  Did  he  curse  God  because 
these  comforts  had  been  so  suddenly  and  awfully  re- 
moved? Did  he  so  much  as  muimur  or  repine  that  a 
change  so  sudden  and  distressing  had  befallen  him? 
No — he  "  arose,  and  rent  his  mantle,  and  shaved  his 
head,   and   fell  down  upon  the  ground,  and  worship- 


156  DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

ped,  saying,  Naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's  womb, 
and  naked  shall  I  return  thither.  The  Lord  gave  and 
the  Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
the  Lord."  Thus  far  Job's  religion  endured  the  test, 
and  the  disingenuous  charge  of  Satan  w^as  confuted. 
But  unwilling  to  yield  the  controversy,  the  subtle  ad- 
versary attempts  to  account  for  the  submission  of  Job 
on  selfish  principles,  and  says,  when  God  appeals  to 
him  for  the  persevering  integrity  of  his  servant,  "  Skin 
for  skin;  yea  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his 
life;" — as  if  Job  had  submitted  wholly  from  a  fear  of 
greater  calamities,  not  at  all  from  a  sense  of  duty;  as 
though  his  apparent  willingness  that  God  should  be  on 
the  throne,  was  nothing  more  than  a  disposition  to 
compound  with  Divine  Providence  by  cheerfully  giving 
up  a  less  good,  when  a  greater  one  was  at  stake.  "  Put 
forth  thine  hand  now,  and  touch  his  bone  and  his  flesh 
and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face."  The  Lord  answered 
"  Behold  he  is  in  thine  hand,  but  spare  his  life."  You 
know  the  sequel.  Immediately  he  is  smitten  with  sore 
biles  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot, 
and  thus  not  only  bereft  of  the  last  drop  of  comfort, 
but  filled  with  extreme  anguish,  and  held  up  a  spectacle 
of  universal  loathing  and  astonishment.  Was  ever  so 
great  a  change  in  human  condition?  But  yesterday 
the  child  of  prosperity,  dwelling  in  affluence,  surrounded 
by  children  and  friends,  and  all  that  heart  could  wish; — 
now  stripped  of  all,  and  sinking  under  the  weight  of  a 
loathsome  disease.  See  him  scraping  his  swollen  limbs 
w^ith  a  potsherd,  while  he  seats  himself  alone  in  the 
ashes,  as  if  unfit  for  the  society  of  human  beings,  and 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  157 

incapable  of  drawing  the  least  consolation  from  his 
being  numbered  with  the  living.  But  this  was  not  the 
whole  of  his  affliction.  So  great  a  change  in  his  out- 
ward circumstances  had  opened  the  mouths  of  all  his 
adversaries.  Those  whose  fathers  he  would  have  dis- 
dained to  set  with  the  dogs  of  his  flock,  made  him  the 
object  of  their  indignant  sneer,  and  triumphed  in  his 
fall.  And  even  his  best  friends  were  staggered  at  his 
sufferings,  and  knew  not  how  to  reconcile  them  with 
the  integrity  for  which  he  had  long  been  distinguished. 
Nay,  they  withdrew  from  him  their  confidence,  and 
instead  of  administering  to  his  comfort,  wounded  him 
to  the  heart,  not  only  insinuating  that  he  was  a  hypocrite, 
but  that  he  lay  under  the  charge  of  some  awful  and 
unrepented  iniquity. 

To  complete  his  misery,  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  who 
we  might  have  expected  would  have  remained  a  fast 
friend,  w^hen  all  the  world  had  forsaken  him,  was,  for  a 
season,  turned  into  a  bitter  and  unfeeling  enemy.  In 
the  language  of  cruel  sarcasm,  she  says,  "Dost  thou 
still  retain  thine  integrity?  Curse  God,  and  die,"  or 
rather  as  it  is  in  the  original,  "  Bless  God  and  die." 
As  much  as  to  say,  "  If  you  are  still  resolved  to  bear 
.your  afflictions  with  patience,  and  to  bless  that  Being, 
who  has  stripped  you  of  all  your  worldly  substance, 
and  cut  off  your  children  in  the  morning  of  their  days, 
whose  hand  is  now  pressing  you  sore  with  an  insup- 
portable disease — if,  under  all  this,  you  are  resolved  to 
bless,  go  on  blessing  until  you  die;  for  the  eye  of  man 
will  not  pity  you." 

The  answer  which  he  returned  shows  us  how  keenly 


158  DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

he  felt  the  wound  which  her  language  was  calculated 
to  inflict;  but,  at  the  same  time  how  firmly  his  heart 
remained  fixed  in  its  submission  to  the  divine  will — 
"  Thou  speakest  as  one  of  the  foolish  women  speaketh. 
Shall  we  receive  good  at  the  hand  of  God  and  shall 
we  not  receive  evil?" 

It  may  well  be  doubted  if  ever  a  man  suffered  as 
much,  in  a  given  period,  from  the  calamitous  dispen- 
sations of  Divine  Providence,  or  if  ever  one  displayed 
an  equal  degree  of  patience  and  submission.  Read 
the  account  which  he  gives  of  his  sufferings  in  the  nine- 
teenth chapter  of  this  book,  and  you  will  perceive  that 
every  cord  of  human  misery  was  touched,  every  fibre 
of  his  heart  was  the  seat  of  anguish;  and  yet  such  was 
his  submission  that  not  a  word  of  complaint  fell  from 
his  lips,  until  exhausted  by  disease,  and  worn  out  by 
the  unkindness  of  his  friends,  he  could  scarcely  be  con- 
sidered as  any  longer  himself.  His  example  indeed 
was  not  perfect,  like  that  of  the  Divine  Saviour;  still 
it  was  such  as  showed  the  uprightness  of  his  heart. 
Through  all  his  sufferings  he  acknowledged  the  justice 
of  God,  and  declared  his  unshaken  purpose  to  serve 
him  to  the  last.  Nay,  when  all  his  friends  had  forsa- 
ken him, — when  every  thing  in  Divine  Providence  wore 
a  threatening  aspect, — even  in  his  greatest  darkness,  he 
reposed  himself  upon  the  arm  of  the  Almighty,  saying 
"  Though  he  slay  me  yet  will  I  trust  in  him." 

Now,  what  was  the  point  to  be  settled  by  this  trial? 
Satan  had  alleged  that  Job  was  governed  by  a  princi- 
ple of  supreme  self-love,  and  particularly  by  a  regard 
to  his  worldly  interests, — that  the  very  best  that  could 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  159 

be  said  of  him  was,  that  he  served  God  as  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  favours  he  had  received,  and  that 
consequently  a  change  of  circumstances  would  lead  to 
a  change  of  character;  in  short,  that  should  God  re- 
move the  hedge  he  had  placed  about  him,  and  lay  upon 
him  the  rod  of  affliction,  this  devout  worshipper  of  Je- 
hovah, this  thankful  observer  of  his  providence,  would 
be  turned  into  a  despiser  of  his  authority,  and  a  com- 
plainer  against  his  government.  This  is  the  spirit  of 
the  allegation,  and  if  the  fact  assumed  in  it  had  been 
just,  no  doubt  the  conclusion  built  upon  this  fact  would 
have  been  just  also.  But  the  experiment  Avas  made 
for  the  very  purpose  of  showing  that  the  assumption 
here  was  false,  that  Job  did  not  serve  God  from  sinister 
motives,  but  from  a  high  and  honorable  sense  of  duty, 
from  love  to  God,  and  a  delight  in  his  holy  will.  And 
if  this  w^as  the  character  of  Job's  religion,  it  cannot  be 
made  a  question  that  it  is  the  character  of  all  true  re- 
ligion, insomuch  that  where  this  disinterested  spirit  is 
wanting,  there  all  true  piety  and  virtue  are  wanting 
also.  The  point  at  issue  was,  whether  Job  was  really 
a  good  man;  and  this  point  was  to  be  determined  by 
determining  the  motives  which  governed  him, — whe- 
ther they  w^ere  of  a  selfish  or  of  a  higher  and  nobler 
character. 

A  few  inferences  and  reflections  will  now  close  this 
discourse. 

First.  It  is  exceedingly  obvious  from  the  question 
which  Satan  agitated  with  God  in  respect  to  Job,  that 
it  is  the  motive  of  an  action  which  determines  it 
to  be  blame,  or  praise-worthy.     As  to  Job's  external 


160  DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

uprightness,  there  was  no  dispute.  The  only  thing  in 
debate  was,  whether  his  motives  were  good;  and  it  was 
admitted  by  God  himself,  if  this  were  not  the  fact,  that 
he  was  hypocritical,  and  his  character  of  no  value.  The 
whole  trial  in  his  case  proceeded  on  the  principle  that 
the  same  external  conduct  may  flow  from  very  different 
motives,  and  these  alone  in  God's  sight  will  decide  the 
question  of  moral  character. 

This  is  a  truth  which  we  shall  none  of  us  deny,  but 
which,  it  is  to  be  feared,  is  too  little  attended  to  in 
judging  of  ourselves.  Our  hearts  are  deceitful  above 
all  things  and  desperately  wicked,  and  too  often  per- 
haps, we  are  ready  to  pronounce  in  our  own  favour,  if 
our  external  conduct  be  regular,  whatever  may  be  the 
motive  from  which  it  springs.  How  many  take  to 
themselves  the  character  of  being  honest  and  just, 
because  they  have  not  knowingly  and  deliberately  de- 
frauded their  neighbour,  though  they  may  have  been 
kept  within  the  bounds  pf  justice,  not  from  any  love  to 
justice  itself,  but  from  the  fear  of  detection,  or  from  the 
selfish  wish  to  establish  a  character  for  honesty  and 
integrity  in  the  world  I  How  many  flatter  themselves 
with  the  idea  of  being  charitable,  because  they  con- 
tributed to  the  W' ants  of  the  poor,  or  for  the  support  of 
objects  of  public  utility,  while  their  hearts  are  total 
strangers  to  the  principle  of  charity,  and  while  they 
have  had  no  higher  motive,  than  to  be  seen  of  men,  or 
to  silence  the  clamour  of  conscience,  and  escape  the 
wrath  of  their  Judge!  How  many  who  claim  to  them- 
selves the  character  of  religious,  because  they  are  at- 
tentive to  the  externals  of  religion,  though  they  look 


DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  161 

not  into  the  secret  motives  of  their  hearts,  nor  seek  for 
purity  of  intention  there? 

Secondly:  Our  subject  may  render  us  important  aid 
in  the  work  of  self-examination. 

The  character  of  Job,  as  an  upright  man,  turned  upon 
the  single  question,  whether  he  served  God  from  a 
principle  of  self  love  only,  or  fro  u  a  sense  of  duty, — 
from  love  to  God's  holy  character  and  will.  Our  cha- 
racters as  professors  of  religion,  will  turn  upon  the  same 
question. 

Do  we  serve  God  then  because  we  love  Him?  Do 
we  love  Him  because  he  is  holy  ?  Would  our  views 
of  his  character  and  our  regard  to  his  service  be  sub- 
stantially the  same,  whether  his  favour  were  extended 
to  us  or  not?  Let  these  questions  be  carefully  consid- 
ered by  us,  because  if  a  principle  of  pure  and  holy  love 
to  God  be  not  the  governing  motive  with  us;  if  we 
serve  him  not  because  we  delight  in  him,  and  delight 
in  him  not  because  he  is  holy,  depend  upon  it,  some 
sin  er  motive  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all, — a  principle 
of  selfishness  which  will  render  our  whole  character 
unsavoury  to  God, — as  unsavoury  as  Job's  would  have 
been,  if  all  that  Satan  alleged  against  him  had  been 
founded  in  fact. 

Professors  of  religion,  would  you  know  indeed 
whether  your  religion  will  bear  the  test  of  the  holy  and 
omniscient  scrutiny  of  God  ?  Settle  this  one  point  with 
yourselves,  whether  you  are  actuated  merely  by  a  re- 
gard to  your  own  happiness,  or  whether  you  are  moved 
also  by  a  sense  of  duty,  and  an  affectionate  regard  to 
God's  will. 

15 


162  DISINTERESTEDNESS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

Thirdly :  Our  subject  suggests  the  remark  that  selfish 
beings  are  exceedingly  inclined  to  impute  to  others  the 
motives  by  which  they  are  governed  themselves,  and 
perhaps  to  deny  to  others  the  possibility  of  acting  from 
any  higher  motives  than  those  which  influence  their  own 
minds.  This  was  certainly  the  case  with  the  great 
adversary  in  relation  to  Job.  Completely  selfish  him- 
self, he  was  forward  to  charge  the  same  disposition  to 
others.  The  event  proved,  however,  that  he  was  in  an 
error;  and  it  proved  no  less  that  those  are  equally  in 
error  who  argue  from  their  own  experience  to  the  ex- 
perience of  God's  people,  and  deny  to  them  both  the 
fact  and  the  possibility  of  acting  from  motives  of  a 
disinterested  character. 

Finally:  As  the  real  character  of  Job  was  decided  by 
the  changes  through  which  he  passed,  so  it  will  be 
with  ourselves.  A  great  and  awful  experiment  is 
making  with  regard  to  every  one  of  us.  By  and  by  the 
grand  result  will  be  proclaimed,  our  characters  w^ill  be 
formed,  and  our  destiny  sealed. 

Let  us  bear  this  awful  consideration  upon  our  minds 
night  and  day.  And  let  the  period  of  our  probation 
terminate  whenever  it  may,  may  the  great  purpose  of 
probation  in  respect  to  us  be  answered  by  our  having 
formed  characters  that  will  bear  the  scrutiny  of  the 
omniscient  eye. 


SERMON  IX. 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 


PSALM  XCII.,  12. 

"  The  righteous  shall  fiourish  like  the  palm  tree :  he  shitll  grow 
like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon^ 

This  is  one  of  the  many  passages  of  sacred  writ,  in 
which  the  lasting  and  increasing  prosperity  of  the 
righteous  is  described,  in  opposition  to  the  momentary 
joy  and  miserable  overthrow  of  the  wicked.  The 
Psalmist  had  said,  "  When  the  wicked  spring  as  the 
grass,  and  when  all  the  workers  of  iniquity  do  flourish, 
it  is  that  they  shall  be  destroyed  forever.  For  lo,  thine 
enemies  0  Lord;  for  lo,  thine  enemies  shall  perish;  all 
the  workers  of  iniquity  shall  be  scattered.  But  my 
horn  shalt  thou  exalt,  like  the  horn  of  a  unicorn;  I 
shall  be  anointed  with  fresh  oil.  Mine  eye  also  shall 
see  my  desire  upon  mine  enemies,  and  mine  ears  shall 
hear  my  desire  of  the  wicked  that  rise  up  against  me." 
Nor  did  he  regard  this  state  of  prosperity  as  peculiar 
to  himself;  he  viewed  the  whole  congregation  of  the 
faithful  as  embraced  in  the  same  promises,  and  sustained 
by  the  same  arm;  and  therefore  he  rises  into  this  solemn 
and  universal  declaration; — ^^  The  righteous  shall  flour- 
ish like  the  palm  tree;  he  shall  grow  like   a  cedar  in 


164  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

Lebanon" — trees  remarkable  for  thriftiness,  and  both 
evergreen:  and  upon  this  account  the  fitter  emblems  of 
the  righteous,  whose  prosperity  is  rich  and  abiding. 
Keeping  up  the  figure  he  adds,  "  Those  that  be  planted 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  shall  flourish  in  the  courts  of 
our  God;  they  shall  still  bring  forth  fruit  in  old  age; 
they  shall  be  fat  and  flourishing."  But  this  prosperity 
of  the  righteous,  so  elegantly  described  by  the  Psalmist, 
has  undoubtedly  a  principal  reference  to  their  spiritual 
welfare.  Not  indeed  but  that  a  virtuous  course  has,  in 
the  ordinary  progress  of  things,  much  the  fairest  chance 
for  the  attainment  of  all  that  can  render  us  honorable 
and  happy  in  this  world;  but  God  has  not  bound  himself 
by  promise  to  make  his  people,  in  all  cases,  liberal 
sharers  in  the  good  things  of  the  present  life,  nor  even 
to  protect  them  from  the  common  calamities  of  this  sinful 
and  suffering  state.  Thousands  we  know  have  been  des- 
titute, afl3icted,  tormented,  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
w^orthy.  Thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  have  been 
dragged  to  prison  and  to  death,  for  their  regard  to  the 
great  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness.  And  others,  in 
more  peaceful  times,  have  been  the  subjects  of  singular 
adversity,  having  waters  of  a  full  cup  wrung  out  to 
them.  Still  they  are  interested  in  the  provisions  of  the 
everlasting  covenant,  and  have  the  assurance  that 
*'  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his,"  and  that  "  all 
things  shall  work  together   for  their  good." 

It  is  in  relation  to  their  spiritual  concerns,  chiefly, 
that  their  prosperity  is  so  strongly  marked  in  the  words 
before  us;  and  whatever  others  may  think,  it  is  enough 
for  them,  if  all  be  well  here: — if  they  can  only  advance 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  165 

in  the  divine  life  and  enjoy  the  light  of  God's  coun- 
tenance, two  things  are  certain; — they  cannot  be  mis- 
erable in  this  world,  and  they  will  be  eternally  happy 
in  the  world  which  is  to  come. 

But  the  great  and  leading  truth  taught  us  in  the  text, 
and  Vv'hich  I  propose  briefly  to  illustrate,  is,  that  the 
righteous  not  only  hold  on  their  way,  in  opposition  to 
many  who  apparently  begin  in  the  spirit  and  end  in  the 
flesh,  but  they  actually  make  progress  in  religion ; — they 
flourish  like  the  palm  tree,  and  grow  like  the  cedar; — 
they  bring  forth  fruit,  even  in  old  age.  I  regard  this 
not  only  as  a  fact,  but  as  a  fact  of  deep  and  vital  im- 
portance; and  I  cannot  but  hope  that  the  discussion  of 
this  subject,  at  all  times  proper,  will  be  viewed  as  in  a 
high  degree  seasonable,  at  the  present  moment. 

In  my  remarks  upon  this  subject  I  propose  to  illustrate 
the  fact  that  the  righteous  make  progress  in  religion; 
and  then  show  that  this  is  an  essential  and  distinguish- 
ing trait  of  their  character. 

I.  In  what  respects  do  the  righteous  make  progress 
in  religion? 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  intimate  that  they  never 
suffer  any  temporary  decay,  or  that,  when  they  go 
forward,  they  always  move  with  the  same  uniform  pace 
towards  the  mark  of  perfection.  Vv^e  know  very  well 
that  the  best  are  subject  to  occasional  declension,  and 
that  those  whose  piety  ought  not  to  be  disputed,  do 
sometimes  so  far  lose  the  vital  power  of  godliness  as 
to  occasion  great  darkness  to  their  own  souls,  and 
bring  upon  themselves  the  severest  rebukes  of  Divine 
Providence.  Our  meaning  is,  that  the  righteous  make 
*15 


166  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

progress  in  religion,  taking  the  several  periods  of  their 
lives  together,  and  that  this  progress  consists  in  some- 
thing more  than  mere  negative  virtue  or  forbearing  to 
do  evil; — that  it  implies  an  increase  in  those  spiritual 
exercises  and  attainments  which  go  to  make  up  the 
divine  life. 

The  righteous,  we  observe,  first  of  all,  make  progress 
in  divine  knowledge.  They  become  more  minutely 
and  extensively  acquainted  with  the  perfections  of 
God, — his  wisdom,  his  power,  his  holiness,  his  justice, 
his  mercy,  his  truth.  These  attributes  which  struck 
them  with  wonder  at  first,  the  more  they  are  contemp- 
lated, the  more  wonderful  and  glorious  do  they  appear; 
their  proper  objects  are  more  distinctly  ascertained, 
and  their  beauty  and  harmony  in  the  works  of  God, 
more  decisively  marked.  They  learn  more  too  of  the 
wonderful  purity  and  breadth  of  God's  law.  At  their 
earliest  discoveries  of  its  spirituality,  they  saw  plainly 
that  it  reached  to  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart; 
but  they  grow  in  their  acquaintance  with  its  demands; 
they  see  more  clearly  both  what  it  forbids  and  what  it 
enjoins.  At  the  same  time,  they  receive  deeper  im- 
pressions of  its  reasonableness  and  authority.  They 
increase  too  in  their  knowledge  of  the  great  principles 
and  ends  of  God's  government,  and  therefore  better 
understand  the  nature  and  tendency  of  his  providential 
dispensations. 

Equally  certain  is  it  that  they  grow  in  their  know- 
ledge of  Christ;  his  person,  character,  oflSce,  work. 
Every  true  Christian  is  supposed  to  know  something 
of  them  at  his  first  entrance  upon  the  religious  life. 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  167 

But  the  experience  of  every  day  serves  greatly  to  ex- 
tend the  boundaries  of  his  knowledge.     No  single  duty 
can  be  performed  acceptably,  but  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
and   by  virtue  of  strength  derived  from  him.      This 
leads   him   often    to    contemplate   the   character    and 
mediation  of  Christ;  to  learn  more  distinctly  who  he  is, 
what  offices  he  sustains  in  relation  to  his  people,  what 
they  may  expect  from  him,  and  upon  what  conditions 
they  may  expect   it.     Hence  he  becomes  more  inti- 
mately  acquainted  with  the  Saviour,  and  feels  more 
sensibly  his   entire  and  absolute  dependence  upon  him. 
In  learning  more  of  God  and  of  Christ,  the  righteous 
learn  more  of  the  relations  which  they  bear  to   them, 
and  consequently  of  the  duties  which  they  owe  in  these 
relations;    especially  as  the  law  of  God,  which  is  the 
measure  of  their  duty,  is    continually  unfolding  in  its 
spirituality  and  extent.     The  consequence  is,  that  they 
not  only  discover  new  duties  in  their  course,  but  discern, 
with  far  greater  clearness,  the  nature  and  importance 
of  those  which  they  had  hitherto  known.     Hence  also 
it  is  that  they  learn  better  to  estimate  the  value  of  one 
duty,    compared    with    another.      The    inexperienced 
Christian  often  discovers  great  zeal  in  performing  du- 
ties of  lesser  moment,  while  those  which  Christ  styles 
the  weightier  matters  of  the  law,  though  not  neglected, 
are  attended  to  with  comparatively  little  engagedness 
and  punctuality.     But  as  he  advances  in  the  divine  life, 
his  judgment    grows   more  correct,  and  he  estimates 
things  in  a  truer  light. 

The  righteous,  moreover,  learn  more  of  themselves, 
as  they  advance.     They  become  better  acquainted  with 


168        pROGREssn^E  cotrnsE  of  the  christian. 

tbelr  own  weaknesses  and  temptations,  with  the  deceit- 
fulness  and  corruption  of  their  own  hearts.  Perhaps 
their  knowledge  increases  more  sensibly  on  this  point 
than  any  other.  The  sad  experience  of  each  day  has  a 
tendency  to  make  them  see  more  and  more  of  that  body 
of  sin  and  death,  which  is  yet  undestroyed  within  them. 

They  learn  more  also  of  the  vanity  of  the  world, 
and  the  snares  and  temptations  w^hich  the  world  pre- 
sents. They  obtain  larger  experience  of  the  devices  of 
the  great  adversary,  who  assails  them  in  a  thousand 
forms,  and  by  instruments  as  various  as  the  different 
objects  they  meet  and  the  different  scenes  through  w^hich 
they  pass;  and  they  become  better  acquainted  with  the 
means  by  which  he  is  to  be  resisted  and  overcome.  In 
one  word,  they  advance  in  the  knowledge  of  religion, 
both  as  a  system  of  truth  and  an  inward  practical 
principle. 

Secondly:  The  righteous  make  progress  in  holy 
and  devout  affections.  This  may  be  regarded  in  part 
as  the  result  of  an  increase  of  knowledge.  For  the 
more  the  doctrines  and  duties  of  religion  are  understood, 
other  things  being  equal,  the  more  will  they  be  loved. 
Hence  we  are  commanded  to  grow  in  knowledge,  as  a 
means  of  growing  in  grace;  and  hence  also  sound  doc- 
trine is  considered  as  the  proper  food  and  nourishment 
of  Christians.     But  to  be  more  particular — 

The  righteous  may  be  considered  as  increasing  in 
love  and  reverence  for  God,  entertaining  more  exalted 
views  of  his  perfections,  feeling  a  deeper  interest  in  the 
progress  of  his  kingdom,  and  acting  more  constantly 
and  sincerely  with  reference  to  his   glory.     They  in- 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  169 

crease  in  holy  gratitude  to  God,  recognizing  his  favours 
with  warmer  sensibility,  and  growing  in  a  conviction 
of  their  own  unworthiness,  and  of  the  amazing  riches 
of  the  divine  mercy.  As  the  character  of  God  is  more 
and  more  unfolded  from  the  exhibitions  made  of  himself 
in  his  works  and  in  his  word,  so  their  hearts  are  ex- 
panded by  degrees  with  those  divine  affections,  which 
his  character  is  calculated  to  inspire.  They  have  more 
love,  more  reverence,  more  gratitude,  more  submission, 
more  undivided  concern  for  his  glory. 

They  make  advances  also  in  their  hatred  of  sin,  and 
their  sorrow  for  it.  It  is  not  with  a  true  Christian,  as 
some  seem  to  imagine — that  he  begins  his  course,  with 
the  bitterest  repentance  for  the  sins  that  are  past,  and 
afterwards  has  no  more  sorrowing  and  repenting  to  do. 
His  life  is  a  life  of  deep  repentance  and  unfeigned  hu- 
miliation; and  this  is,  in  no  degree,  inconsistent  with 
his  making  progress  in  holiness.  For  it  is  one  way  in 
which  holiness  in  an  imperfect  being  manifests  itself, — 
to  loathe  remaining  impurity  and  to  sigh  after  greater 
degrees  of  sanctification.  It  cannot  be  pretended  that 
the  most  exalted  Christian  on  earth  is  perfect.  In  ma- 
ny things  we  all  offend,  and  in  all  we  come  short  of 
the  glory  of  God.  There  must,  therefore,  be  daily 
and  hourly  need  of  repentance:  and  why  should  not 
the  heart  that  sees  this,  feel  and  act  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  case  1  It  is  past  all  doubt  that,  as  the 
soul  makes  progress  in  the  divine  life,  sin,  in  its  esti- 
mation, becomes  increasingly  heinous;  and  hence, 
though  the  power  of  sin  is  more  and  more  broken,  still 


170 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 


the  remains  of  it  excite  deeper  sorrow,  and  cause  a 
more  unfeigned  humiliation.  There  are  none  who  so 
often  cry  out,  "  O,  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall 
deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death?" — as  those  who 
have  attained  the  advanced  sanctification  of  the  Apostle. 
To  such  persons  sin  appears  to  be  sin  indeed.  An  im- 
proper thought,  a  mere  defect  which  would  pass  wholly 
unnoticed  by  a  conscience  less  quick,  and  a  heart  less 
sanctified  and  sensible  than  theirs,  stands  arrayed  in 
awful  colours,  presenting  a  cloud  of  guilt,  black  with 
terror,  and  but  for  the  blood  of  the  cross,  it  would  over- 
whelm them  in  despair.  The  consequence  is  that  they 
walk  softly  before  God,  and  continue  to  seek  after  con- 
formity to  him,  while  sin  is  daily  more  embittered  and 
the  cry  for  deliverance  is  repeated  with  greater  fre- 
quency and  earnestness. 

The  righteous  increase  in  spirituality  moreover, 
inasmuch  as  they  increase  in  patience,  charity,  meek- 
ness, self-denial,  deadness  to  the  world,  hope  in 
God's  mercy  and  faith  unfeigned.  Their  progress  is 
especially  and  strongly  marked  by  an  increase  of  faith 
and  hope.  Joy  may  not  be  so  lively:  the  various  sen- 
sibilities of  the  soul  may  be  less  awake;  but  faith  and 
hope  will  be  even  more  firm  and  vigorous.  The  repeat- 
ed instances  which  they  have  had  of  God's  faithfulness, 
and  the  large  experience  of  his  mercy,  in  times  when 
everything  around  looked  dark  and  boding,  can  scarcely 
fail  to  increase  their  confidence  in  him.  These  things 
give  them  a  firmer  trust  in  his  promises,  and  greatly 
strengthen  their  hopes  of  acceptance  with  Him,  beyond 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  J  71 

what  they  had  experienced  in  the  earlier  perio:'s  of 
the  Christian  life.  But  not  to  protract  this  part  of  the 
subject,  I  very  briefly  remark,  once  more, 

That  the  progress,  which  the  righteous  make  in  the 
path  of  religion,  is  seen  in  the  consistency  and  uniform- 
ity of  their  conduct.  They  are  less  and  less  liable  to 
those  sudden  transitions  of  sentiment  and  feeling, 
which  they  experienced  in  the  first  entrance  on  their 
course.  They  go  forward  with  a  firmer  step,  and  if 
they  do  not  appear  to  move  so  rapidly,  still  their  pro- 
gress is  more  uniform,  and  their  advance,  on  the  whole, 
more  certain  as  well  as  more  considerable.  They  are 
more  able  to  encounter  difficulties  and  receive  less  in- 
jury from  the  enemies  who  would  willingly  obstruct 
their  path.  In  short,  you  may  compare  them  in  their 
progress  to  children  who  are  rising  to  manhood;  they 
lose  some  of  their  vivacity, — some  of  their  zeal:  but 
they  acquire  more  industry,  more  strength,  more  skill, 
and  consequently  reach  a  higher  eminence  in  the 
divine  life.  In  these  respects,  and  in  others  which 
might  be  mentioned,  do  the  righteous  make  progress 
in  religion.     But  I  call  your  attention  to  the 

II.  Second  branch  of  the  discourse,  in  which  I  am 
to  show  that  this  advance  in  the  divine  life  is  an  essen- 
tial characteristic  of  the  righteous;  or,  which  amounts 
to  the  same  thing,  that  the  righteous,  notwithstanding 
any  partial  declensions,  do  eventually  hold  on  their 
way,  and  make  progress  in  the  knowledge  and  practice 
of  their  duty. 

We  might  rest  assured  of  this  from  the  single  pas- 
sage on  which  we  have  grounded   our  meditations  at 


172  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

this  time.  For  unless  we  admit  that  the  righteous 
make  progress  in  religion,  how  could  it  be  said  of  them 
that  "  they  shall  flourish  like  the  palm  tree,  and  grow 
like  the  cedar  in  Lebanon?"  That  "those  who  are 
planted  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  shall  flourish  in  the 
courts  of  our  God?"  that  "  they  shall  still  bring  forth 
fruit  in  old  age;"  that  "they  shall  be  fat  and  flour- 
ishing?" But  the  language  of  Scripture  is  uniform  on 
this  subject.  The  Psalmist  tells  us  in  the  eighty-fourth 
psalm,  not  only  that  the  righteous  have  their  strength 
in  God,  but  that  "  they  shall  go  from  strength  to 
strength,  every  one  of  them  in  Zion  appearing  before 
God."  We  read  also,  "  That  the  righteous  shall  hold 
on  his  way,  and  he  that  hath  clean  hands  shall  wax 
stronger  and  stronger."  And  we  are  told  not  only, 
that  God  will  bless  and  establish  the  habitation  of  the 
just,  but  that  "  the  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining 
light,  which  increaseth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day;"  words,  which  strongly  mark  the  progress  of  the 
just  in  those  great  principles  of  truth  and  righteous- 
ness by  which  they  stand  distinguished  from  the  wicked. 
Does  not  our  Saviour  bear  testimony  to  the  same 
truth,  not  only  w^hen  he  describes  his  disciples  as  those 
who  love  God  and  keep  his  commandments, — as  those 
who  enter  upon  a  religious  course,  and  who  endure  in 
that  course  to  the  end,  but  especially  when  he  teaches 
us  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  like  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed,  which,  though  the  least  of  all  seeds,  yet  when  it 
is  grown,  becomes  the  greatest  of  all  herbs,  so  that  the 
fowls  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  of  it? 
And  then  again,  when  he  likens  it  to  a  corn  of  wheat 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  173 

cast  into  the  ground: — "There  is  first  the  blade,  then 
the  ear,  then  the  full  or  ripe  corn  in  the  ear."  If  he 
alludes  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  as  established  in  the 
hearts  of  men,  as  well  as  to  this  kingdom  set  up  in 
the  world,  the  inference  is  irresistible  that  the  work  of 
grace  in  every  renewed  heart  is  progressive; — that 
they  who  truly  become  heirs  of  the  heavenly  kingdom, 
increase  in  their  meetness  for  that  kingdom,  as  they 
advance  in  life  and  come  nearer  to  the  time  when  they 
shall  take  possession  of  it.  And  why  should  not  this 
be  thought  reasonable?  So,  we  are  assured  it  was 
wuth  the  Apostle,  and  his  companions  in  labours  and 
sufferings.  Though  the  outward  man  decayed,  yet 
the  inward  man  was  renewed  day  by  day.  Forgetting 
the  things  which  were  behind,  and  reaching  forth  to 
those  things  which  were  before,  they  pressed  toward  the 
mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God,  which  is 
in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  "  The  weapons  of  our  war- 
fare," they  could  say,  "are  not  carnal,  but  mighty 
through  God,  to  the  pulling  dow^n  of  strong  holds, 
casting  down  imaginations,  and_  every  high  thing 
which  exalteth  itself  against  the  knowledge  of  God, 
and  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obe- 
dience of  Christ." 

God  has  implanted  in  the  heart  of  every  true  Christian 
substantially  the  sartie  principles; — I  mean  a  hatred  of 
sin,  and  an  inextinguishable  desire  to  be  holy;  and 
shall  these  principles  w^ork  no  change  in  his  character? 
God  has  given  unto  him  the  hope  of  everlasting  hap- 
piness in  a  world  where  he  shall  be  as  free  from  sin  as 
he  shall  be  from  sorrow;  and  shall  not  this  hope  lead 
16 


174  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

him  to  purify  himself,  even  as  Christ  his  Lord  is  pure? 
We  cannot  assert  the  contrary,  without  denying  the 
most  solemn  and  explicit  testimony  of  an  apostle.  God 
has  commanded  true  believers  to  grow  in  grace,  and 
has  furnished  them  w^ith  the  means;  and  can  we  sup- 
pose that  these  means  will  prove  abortive,  though  at 
the  same  time,  he  has  promised  to  give  them  his  Spirit 
to  abide  in  them — and  to  work  in  them  to  will  and  to 
do  of  his  own  good  pleasure? 

It  is  a  doctrine  of  the  Bible  that  evil  men  and  se- 
ducers wax  worse  and  worse; — their  con upt  principles 
they  manifest  in  their  lives,  and  the  longer  they  live, 
the  more  palpable  is  this  manifestation.  Is  it  not 
agreeable  to  the  analogy  of  providence  that  good  men 
should  evince  their  principles,  and  grow  wiser  and 
better,  by  the  advantages  they  possess  or  the  means 
they  enjoy?  There  is  certainly  the  more  reason  to 
expect  this,  when  we  are  assured  that  the  gospel  and 
its  privileges  exert  a  transforming  influence  upon  the 
hearts  of  believers.  For,  says  Paul,  "  V/e  all  with 
open  face,  beholding  as  in  a  glass,  the  glory  of  the 
Lord,  are  changed  into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to 
glory,  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord."  The  same 
progressive  character  is  ascribed  to  the  believer  in 
terms  equally  explicit  by  another  apostle,  while  the 
means  of  this  improvement  are  no  less  unequivocally 
declared— "To  whom  coming  as  unto  a  living  stone, 
disallowed  indeed  of  men,  but  chosen  of  God  and 
precious,  ye  also  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spirit- 
ual house,  an  holy  priesthood,  to  offer  up  spiritual 
sacrifices,  acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ." 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  175 

We  could  easily  add  to  this  testimony;  but  enough 
has  been  said  to  show  you  that  it  is  one  essential  and 
distinguishing  trait  in  the  character  of  the  righteous  to 
make  progress  in  religion.  They  do  not  merely  hold 
on  their  way,  and  endure  to  the  end,  but  they  make 
advances  in  the  divine  life.  They  flourish  like  the 
palm  tree,  and  grow  like  the  cedar  of  Lebanon. 

Yet  certain  and  demonstrable  as  this  truth  is  from 
the  Bible,  it  is  not  without  its  objections.  It  may  be 
said  that  it  is  no  uncommon  occurrence  among  those 
who  profess  religion,  that  the  zeal  which  they  display 
in  the  commencement  of  their  course,  after  a  little 
while,  subsides;  and  though  they  do  not  cease  their 
attendance  on  religious  duties,  yet  they  never  appear 
to  recover  their  former  life  and  vigour.  May  we  not 
suppose  that  they  have  lost  their  first  love,  without  sup- 
posing that  they  were  insincere, — and  that  they  may 
continue  in  this  state  of  backsliding,  without  giving  in 
to  the  opinion,  that  the  love  of  God  was  never  shed 
abroad  in  their  hearts? 

That  such  facts  do  occur,  and  occur  with  lamentable 
frequency,  there  is  no  question.  But  they  are  always 
to  be  accounted  for  in  one  of  three  w^ays; — either  that 
the  persons  in  this  state  of  decline  never  had  any  reli- 
gion, but  have  merely  compassed  themselves  about  with 
sparks  of  their  own  kindling,  and  therefore  have  not 
been  able  to  keep  the  fire  burning  amidst  the  rude 
storms  of  the  present  life;  or  they  have  fallen  into  a 
temporary  decay,  from  which  eternal  mercy,  according 
to  its  own  promise,  will  yet  recover  them;  or  else  much 
of  their  former  zeal  was  owing  to  a  mixture  with  human 


176  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

passions,  which  gave  them  the  appearance  of  much 
more  religion  than  they  really  possessed.  The  latter  is 
a  case  by  no  means  uncommon  in  the  Christian  world. 
A  man  suddenly  brought  out  of  darkness  into  God's 
marvellous  light,  will  be  likely  to  be  much  affected  by 
the  mere  novelty  of  his  views; — and  if  he  possess  a 
w^arm  imagination,  and  is  not  careful  to  discriminate 
his  motives,  nothing  is  more  probable  than  that  his  zeal 
will  burn  high,  while  the  selfish  passions  are  the  chief 
instruments  in  feeding  the  flame.  When  his  judgment 
comes  to  be  better  informed,  and  the  novelty  of  his 
views  a  little  worn  away,  much  of  his  ardour  may  be 
supposed  to  abate,  without  his  having  less  love  to  God, 
or  less  real  desire  to  serve  and  honour  him.  We  do 
not  regard  the  fact  therefore,  that  many,  and  perhaps 
even  the  greater  number,  of  those  whom  charity  would 
induce  us  to  receive  as  real  Christians,  show  less  zeal 
in  the  subsequent,  than  in  the  early  part  of  their  course, 
as  in  any  degree  militating  against  the  doctrine  which 
we  have  attempted  to  support,  that  the  righteous,  tak- 
ing the  whole  of  their  lives  together,  really  make  pro- 
gress in  religion.  The  flame  may  not  ascend  so  high, 
and  yet  the  heat  be  more  intense.  There  may  be  less 
of  animal  feeling, — less  of  human  passion,  and  yet  more 
of  the  Christian  temper,  more  sincere  love  to  God, 
more  benevolence  to  man,  and  a  greater  steadfastness 
and  uniformity  in  duty. 

Is  it  not  time  then,  my  Christian  friends,  to  pause  and 
enter  into  a  close  and  serious  examination  of  our  own 
case?  Our  subject  presents  a  most  important  and  de- 
cisive test  of  Christian   character.     Let  us  look  back 


'       PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF   THE  CHRISTIAN.  177 

upon  our  course,  and  with  all  the  impartiality  of  those 
who  are  willing  and  anxious  to  know  the  truth,  let 
us  ask,  have  we  made  progress  in  the  divine  life?  Is 
it  true  of  us  as  of  the  righteous,  that  we  flourish  like 
the  palm  tree,  and  grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon?  Is 
our  path  that  of  the  just,  which  as  the  shining  light, 
shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day?  I  must 
confess  I  have  many  fears,  that  this  is  not  the  case  with 
us  all.  There  is  a  declension  among  us  which  is  truly 
alarming; — a  declension  not  only  deep  in  itself,  but 
which  in  many  cases,  has  been  of  such  long  continuance, 
as  to  excite  the  most  fearful  apprehensions.  Let  each 
professor  of  religion  then  put  it  to  his  own  heart, — 
Have  I  made  any  progress  in  the  great  principles  and 
practice  of  Godliness,  since  I  began  my  religious  course? 
Have  I  learned  more  of  God  my  Creator,  Benefactor 
and  Preserver?  Have  I  a  clearer  apprehension  of  his 
glorious  attributes,  purposes  and  designs?  Does  his 
majesty  awe  me  more,  and  his  fear  make  a  deeper  im- 
pression upon  my  heart?  Do  I  think  more  of  his 
cause  in  the  world,  and  feel  a  stronger  desire  that  his 
kingdom  may  be  established  in  my  own  heart  and  in 
the  hearts  of  others?  Does  his  glory  strike  my  eye 
with  increasing  power  and  delight,  and  become  to  my 
soul  a  more  constant  as  well  as  a  more  distinct  motive 
of  action?  Have  I  learned  more  of  Christ  my  Redeemer, 
and  the  only  appointed  medium  of  my  approach  unto 
God?  Do  1  better  understand  the  glories  of  his  person, 
comprehending  both  a  divine  and  human  nature?  And 
do  I  see  more  the  reasonableness  and  necessity  of  his 
mediation?  What  views  have  I  gained  of  him  in  his 
16* 


178  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

infinitely  important  offices  of  Prophet,  Priest  and 
King?  Is  he  regarded  by  me,  with  increasing  interest, 
as  the  only  hope  of  my  lost  soul?  Does  his  blood 
appear  increasingly  precious,  as  the  only  and  all 
sufficient  sacrifice  for  sin;  and  his  righteousness  as  the 
meritorious  ground  of  a  title  to  life?  Do  I  go  to  him 
daily,  and  go  to  him  with  renew^ed  confidence,  as  the 
medium  of  forgiveness,  and  the  author  of  strength  ?  Can 
I  say  that  he  is  more  and  more  precious  to  me  in  his 
character,  offices  and  w^ork,  that  I  feel  the  constraints 
of  his  love  more,  and  that  I  desire  with  greater  sincerity 
and  ardour  to  be  devoted  to  his  cause,  and  thus  live  to 
Him  who  died  for  me? 

Do  I  love  the  w^ord  of  God  more,  and  peruse  it  with 
increasing  diligence  and  satisfaction?  Do  I  make  it 
the  man  of  my  counsel,  and  regard  its  dictates  as  para- 
mount to  every  other  law?  Have  its  precious  truths 
a  transforming  influence  upon,  my  heart?  And  w^hile 
I  advance  in  knowledge,  do  I  advance  also,  in  the  love 
and  practice  of  the  truth?  Do  I  love  to  pray  more, 
and  if  I  do  not  increase  in  the  gift,  do  1  at  least  in- 
crease in  the  spirit  of  prayer?  Is  my  daily  cry  more 
humble,  more  ardent,  more  believing,  more  disinterested 
embracing  the  wants  of  others  as  well  as  my  own? 
Do  I  feel  a  deeper  regard  for  God's  people,  compas- 
sionate their  infirmities  more,  and  with  greater  con- 
stancy remember  them  before  the  throne  of  our  common 
Lord?  And  is  my  heart  touched  with  increasing  ten- 
derness for  sinners  w^ho  live  in  impenitence,  and  lie 
under  the  awful  sentence  of  God's  broken  law? 
Qr  do  I  care  less  and  less  what  is  to  become  of  their 


PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN.  179 

never  dying  souls,  provided  they   do  not  disturb  my 
present  tranquillity? 

In  what  point  of  view  do  I  regard  sin?  Is  it  more 
and  more  a  terror  to  me?  Have  I  a  growing  sense  of 
its  awful  turpitude,  as  a  breach  of  God's  law?  Do  I 
groan  more  and  more  under  its  remaining  power,  and, 
like  the  holy  Apostle,  cry  with  increasing  earnestness, 
to  be  delivered?  And  does  the  work  of  mortifying  sin 
go  on  within  me?  Do  I  find  that  any  sinful  appetite 
or  passion  is  losing  strength,  while  the  opposite  virtue 
or  grace  is  manifestly  gaining  the  ascendency?  Am  I 
more  patient  under  afflictions,  more  meek  under  in- 
juries, more  self-denied  when  my  worldly  interests  are 
threatened,  or  any  of  my  worldly  desires  crossed? 
Have  I  become  more  kind,  more  benignant,  more 
charitable?  In  a  word,  have  I  got  at  a  greater  re- 
move from  all  the  selfish  passions,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  I  am  more  spiritual,  more  heavenly,  living  with 
my  hope  fixed  on  God,  and  my  expectations  on  his 
promised  rest?  Then  I  am  a  Christian, — certainly  I 
I  am  a  Christian,  whose  lineaments  I  find  in  the  Bible. 
I  am  a  righteous  man  who  flourishes  like  the  palm- 
tree,  and  grows  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon. 

But  what  if,  upon  this  examination,  I  find  it  other- 
wise? What  if  my  conscience  brings  in  a  different 
verdict,  and  tells  me  I  have  made  no  such  progress  in 
the  divine  life;  that,  though  I  have  been  years  in  the 
school  of  Christ  among  his  professed  disciples,  yet  I 
have  not  perceptibly  advanced  in  knowledge  or  in 
grace;  or  if  I  have  gained  in  a  speculative  acquaint- 
ance with  divine  truth,  I  have  made  no  such  proficiency 


180  PROGRESSIVE  COURSE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

in  a  heavenly  temper; — that  I  am  not  more  like  Christ 
in  my  own  eyes,  nor  in  the  eyes  of  my  brethren,  than 
I  was  at  the  commencement  of  my  course?  Nay,  what 
if  my  own  heart  joins  with  all  around  in  testifying 
that  I  have  manifestly  lost  much  of  what  appeared 
hopeful  at  the  beginning,  and  that  I  have  slidden 
back  with  perpetual  backsliding?  Alas!  what  dread- 
ful proof  is  here  of  my  insincerity;  and  w^hat  rea- 
son have  I  to  tremble  in  view  of  that  judgment  which 
is  approaching!  Shall  we  venture  forward,  my 
brethren,  under  such  circumstances,  and  hug  our  delu- 
sions till  we  die?  Or  shall  we  make  a  solemn  pause, 
and  determine  that,  unless  we  can  find  we  are  Chris- 
tians indeed — Christians  that  grow  in  grace,  we  w^ill 
abandon  our  hopes,  as  having  in  them  the  elements 
of  self-deception  and  eternal  ruin? 


SERMON  X. 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 


ISAIAH,  XXVI.,  3. 

Thou  ivilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace,  whose  mind  is  stayed  on 
thee. 

The  heart  of  man  is  often  disquieted  in  his  journey 
through  this  world.  From  causes  infinitely  various, 
his  comforts  and  his  hopes  forsake  him,  and  he  finds 
the  need  of  other  support  than  can  be  derived  from  any 
resources  of  his  own.  Often  he  feels  the  need  of 
friends,  who  will  enter  into  his  sufferings,  and  extend 
the  balm  of  sympathy  to  his  wounded  spirit. 

But  there  are  seasons  when  his  sorrows  lie  too  deep 
to  be  reached  by  human  power.  He  has  griefs  which 
cannot  be  imparted,  or  if  imparted,  can  in  no  degree  be 
lightened  or  removed.  Then  it  is  that  his  own  weak- 
ness is  felt,  and  the  weakness  of  those  who  surround 
him;  then  it  is  that  he  is  willing  to  hear  something  of 
God,  the  everlasting  God  who  fainteth  not,  neither  is 
weary  and  who  has  styled  himself  a  present  help  in 
every  time  of  trouble;  then  it  is  that  he  rejoices  to  be- 
lieve that  the  same  Almighty  Power  which  stilleth  the 
noise  of  the  seas,  stilleth  also  the  troubled  mind,  and 
gives  a  peace  which  nothing  on  earth  can  destroy. 


182 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 


If  there  be  any  in  this  assembly  whose  experience 
accords  with  this  statement,  they  will  listen  with  some 
degree  of  interest  to  the  words  of  the  prophet  which 
I  have  just  read,  in  which  he  declares,  under  the  au- 
thority of  inspiration,  that  God  will  keep  in  perfect 
peace  those  whose  minds  are  stayed  on  him.  The 
prophet  had  been  favoured  with  extensive  views  of 
God's  power  and  justice — nay,  of  His  truth  and  mercy, 
in  the  judgments  He  had  executed  upon  the  wicked, 
and  in  the  salvation  He  had  wrought  for  the  righteous. 
Enlightened  by  the  Divine  Spirit,  he  could  not  only  sur- 
vey the  wonderful  works  which  God  had  already  per- 
formed in  the  earth,  but  look  forward  to  those  which 
were  still  more  wonderful,  and  which  the  divine  faith- 
fulness had  pledged  itself  to  accomplish.  He  could 
see  the  time  when  Moab,  long  an  inveterate  enemy 
of  God's  people,  "  Should  be  trodden  down  as  the 
straw  is  trodden  down  for  the  dung-hill;  when  his  fort- 
ress and  high  towers  should  be  brought  down  and  laid 
even  with  the  dust;  and  when  the  branch  of  all  the 
terrible  ones  should  be  brought  low."  He  could  see 
the  delightful  period  when  God  should  destroy,  by  his 
own  Almighty  hand,  the  face  of  the  covering  cast  over 
all  the  people,  and  bring  the  Gentile  nations  to  the 
knowledge  and  acknowledgment  of  the  truth.  Then 
he  tells  us  "  A  time  will  have  come,  when  death  shall 
be  swallowed  up  in  victory,  and  God  shall  wipe  away 
tears  from  off  all  faces,  and  take  away  the  rebuke  of 
his  people  from  off  all  the  earth;  then  shall  this  song 
be  sung  in  the  land  of  Judah,  We  have  a  strong  city; 
salvation  will  God  appoint  for  walls  and  bulwarks; 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  183 

open  ye  your  gates,  that  the  righteous  nation  which 
keepeth  the  truth,  may  enter  in."  And  to  give  a  still 
higher  idea  of  the  safety  and  happiness  of  God's  peo- 
ple, at  that  period,  as  well  as  to  minister  present  hope 
and  consolation  to  every  disquieted  heart,  he  adds  as 
in  the  words  of  our  text,  "  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  per- 
fect peace  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee." 

In  discoursing  farther  from  these  words,  I  propose  to 
direct  your  attention  to  two  thino^s: 

I.  To  the  duty  of  staying  the  mind  on  God: 

II.  To  the  privilege  connected  with  this  duty.  "  Thou 
wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose  mind  is  stayed 
on  thee." 

I.  To  the  duty  of  staying  the  mind  on  God. 

I  hardly  need  remark  that  this  expression  is  nearly 
equivalent  to  that  of  "  trusting  in  God,"  "  casting 
our  care  upon  him,"  and  "  looking  to  him"  for  what- 
ever is  needful  in  time  or  eternity.  This  idea  is  at- 
tached to  the  term  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  this  prophecy, 
where  it  is  said,  "  that  the  remnant  of  Israel,  and  such 
as  are  escaped  from  the  house  of  Jacob,  shall  no  more 
stay  upon  him  that  smote  them,  (that  is  upon  the  As- 
syrian,) but  they  shall  stay  upon  the  Lord,  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel  in  truth."  The  prophet  uses  the  expres- 
sion in  the  same  sense,  when  he  reproves  the  children 
of  Israel  for  going  down  into  Egypt  for  help,  and 
staying  on  horses  and  trusting  in  chariots,  and  w^hen 
he  directs — "  If  there  be  any  among  you  who  feareth 
the  Lord  and  walketh  in  darkness  and  seeth  no  licrht, 
let  him  trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  and  stay  himself 


184  CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 

upon  liis  God."  But  to  enter  a  little  more  into  the  im- 
port of  this  expression, 

I  remark,  in  the  first  place,  That  he  who  stays  him- 
self upon  God,  has  a  deep  and  affecting  sense  of  his 
own  insufficiency.  He  clearly  perceives  that  he  has  no 
power,  independent  of  God; — that  he  can  neither  pro- 
vide for  his  wants,  nor  protect  himself  against  his  fears, 
without  the  agency  of  Divine  Providence.  In  particu- 
lar it  may  be  said,  that  he  has  no  confidence  in  his  own 
wisdom  and  fore-sight,  as  if  he  were  able  to  penetrate 
the  dark  folds  of  futurity,  and  to  find  out  for  himself  a 
secure  path,  amidst  the  ever-varying  scenes  in  which 
he  is  called  to  mingle.  He  feels,  in  this  respect,  all  the 
humility  and  dependance  of  a  little  child,  who  is 
willing  and  anxious  to  be  led.  He  goes  to  God,  there- 
fore, continually,  and  seeks  counsel  from  Him.  He 
has  no  confidence  in  his  own  virtue,  as  though  he  were 
able  to  perform  his  duty,  or  to  stand  the  shock  of 
temptation,  without  strength  derived  from  on  high. 
He  knows  well,  "  that  in  himself,  that  is,  in  his  flesh 
there  dwelleth  no  good" — or  to  use  another  expression 
of  the  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  that  "  he  is  not 
sufficient  of  himself  to  think  any  thing  as  of  himself, 
but  that  all  his  sufficiency  is  of  God,"  who  must  "  work 
in  him,  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure." 

He  is  equally  convinced  of  his  own  insufficiency  to 
sustain  himself  in  the  day  of  calamity  and  rebuke,,  or 
to  bear  up  under  the  common  ills  of  life,  if  not  sup- 
ported by  a  hand  which  is  almighty.  He  ceases,  there- 
fore, all  proud  reliance  upon  himself.    Nor  is  he  ashamed 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD    PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  185 

lo  acknowledge  that  the  very  feeblest  of  his  enemies 
has  power  sufficient  to  destroy  him,  if  unprotected  by 
Him,  whose  eye  is  over  all,  and  w^hose  hand  directs  and 
governs  all.  In  this  view  of  his  absolute  dependance, 
he  is  w-eaned  from  his  owm  understanding  and  his  own 
strength;  and  is  thus  far  prepared  to  lean  upon  the 
Lord.     But  we  remark. 

In  the  next  place,  that  as  he  has  a  deep  conviction 
of  his  own  weakness,  so  also  he  has  a  lively  sense  of 
the  weakness  and  insufficiency  of  all  other  creatures. 
He  perceives  that  they  are  as  little  capable  of  adminis- 
tering to  his  wants  and  of  becoming  a  full  and  satisfy- 
ing portion,  as  he  himself  is.  This  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  his  staying  himself  upon  the  Lord.  The 
streams  must  dry  up  before  he  w^ill  go  to  the  fountain: — 
the  creature  must  vanish  in  his  sight,  before  he  will 
repair  unto  God.  God  is  indeed  a  strong  rock,  on 
which  men  may  constantly  repose;  an  everlasting  tower 
in  w^hich  they  may  hide;  but  they  will  never  fly  unto 
Him,  until  all  other  refuges  have  failed.  Naturally 
they  love  and  serve  the  creature,  more  than  the  Creator, 
who  is  God  over  all,  blessed  forever;  and  they  w^ill  seek 
the  creature,  and  stay  themselves  upon  it,  until  its 
vanity  is  made  fully  to  appear.  There  never  was  and 
there  never  w^ill  be  a  soul  brought  to  stay  itself  upon 
the  Lord,  until  it  has  attained  a  deep  and  pow^erful  con- 
viction of  its  own  insufficiency,  and  the  insufficiency  of 
every  other  creature,  fully  to  meet  its  desires  and  to 
make  it  truly  and  substantially  happy. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  for  to  a  conviction  of  the  insufficiency 
of  the  creature,  you  must  add,  in  the  third  place,  a  just 
17 


186    CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 

and  lively  apprehension  of  the  infinite  excellency  and 
glory  of  the  Creator, — or,  which  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  a  firm  and  heart  felt  persuasion  of  the  being  and 
perfections  of  God.  When  God's  attributes  are  not  dis- 
tinctly apprehended^  there  is  no  foundation  laid  for 
staying  ourselves  upon  him.  He  must  appear  to  be 
the  rock,  and  his  work  perfect,  before  we  can  make 
him  the  object  of  our  confidence.  "  They  that  know 
thy  name,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "  will  put  their  trust  in 
thee."  But  they  that  do  not  know  God's  name,  and 
who  do  not  see  Him  to  be  what  He  is, — a  Being  of  in- 
finite wisdom,  power,  holiness,  truth  and  mercy,  will  not 
put  their  trust  in  Him;  and  the  reason  is  that  they  see 
no  just  reason  for  it. 

But  let  us  not  suppose  that  a  mere  speculative 
knowledge  of  God  will  suffice.  God  must  be  seen  in 
his  spiritual  excellence  and  glory, — in  other  words,  he 
must  be  loved,  before  we  can  make  him  the  object  of 
our  trust.  The  devils  know  Him  speculatively,  but  they 
do  not  trust  in  Him,  because  they  do  not  love.  The 
same  is  the  case  with  thousands  of  wicked  men  under 
the  light  of  the  gospel.  They  are  not  speculatively 
ignorant  of  God's  attributes  but  being  destitute  of  any 
spiritual  discernment  of  his  moral  excellence,  they  do 
not  stay  themselves  upon  Him.  Their  aversion  begets 
jealousy,  and  jealousy  lear,  and  fear  is  but  another 
name  for  distrust.  They  and  they  only  can  stay  them- 
selves upon  the  Lord,  who  have  a  full  and  unwavering 
conviction  of  his  being  and  attributes,  and  who  feel  a 
cordial  approbation  of  his  character. 

There  is  yet  another  important  principle  involved 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  187 

in  this   duty,  viz:  a  knowledge  of  God  in  Christ.     It 
is  only  in  and  through  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  a  holy  and 
just  God   can  dispense  favour  to  sinners.     If  I  know 
nothing  therefore  of  this  medium  of  mercy,  how  can  I 
stay   myself  upon   the   Lord,    as   the    ground    of  my 
security  or  happiness?     He  may  be  infinitely  glorious 
in  Himself,  and  yet  not  show  kindness  to  me;  he  may 
rule  in  infinite  wisdom  and  love,  and  yet  make  me  the 
object  of  his  increasing  and  dreadful  abhorence.     Nor 
without  a  knovrledge  of  a  Saviour  and  the  infinitely 
precious  promises  that  are  founded  upon  him,  can  I  see 
how  God  can  maintain  the  honour  of  his  government, 
without  punishing  every  transgression  and  disobedience 
with  a  just  recompense  of  reward.     What  then  shall  I 
do?     Whither  shall  I  look  for  refuge?     Certainly  not 
to  God,  who  is  infinitely  holy,  and  whom  I  have  most 
grievously  offended,  unless  He  shall  vouchsafe  to  tell 
me  that  he  is  merciful,  and  upon  my  return  to  Him, 
will  put  away  my  transgressions,  and  become  my  sure 
and  everlasting  friend.     This  He  has  nowhere  done, 
but  in  the   gospel  of  his  Son;    nor  from   any   other 
source  can  I  learn  that  sin   is  pardonable,  or  that  God 
is  willing  to  become  my  refuge. 

To  stay  myself  upon  Him,  therefore,  must  suppose 
that  I  am  acquainted  with  the  revelation  of  his  mercy 
in  Christ,  and  that  I  distinctly  recognise  those  great 
and  precious  promises  which  are  made  in  him,  and 
which  in  him  are  yea  and  amen  to  the  glory  of  God 
the  Father. 

Let  me  add  also  to  stay  ourselves  upon  the  Lord, 
implies  not  merely  that  we  confide  in  Him,  but  that  we 


188         CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD    PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 

have  a  strong  and  unshaken  confidence.  There  may 
be  a  partial  and  wavering  trust,  occasioned  by  the 
warmth  and  buoyancy  of  natural  feeling,  or  by  some 
remarkable  interposition  of  Providence  in  our  favour, 
when  very  little  of  the  divine  character  is  seen,  and 
very  little  of  faith  is  in  exercise.  But  those  who 
stay  themselves  upon  God,  have  a  fixedness  of  heart 
and  steadfastness  of  reliance,  which  show  that  they  have 
enlarged  conceptions  of  what  God  is,  and  what  He  has 
promised  to  do  for  his  people.  They  feel  themselves 
surrounded  by  One,  whose  power  is  unlimited,  and 
whose  faithfulness  cannot  fail;  and  they  find  it  as 
natural  and  easy  to  cast  themselves  upon  his  care,  as 
for  a  child  to  recline  upon  his  father's  bosom,  or  for  the 
weary  traveller  to  sit  down  to  rest.  God  appears  to 
them  a  strong  rock,  a  high  tower  of  defence,  a  full 
and  never  failing  portion  of  the  soul.  Hence  they  lean 
upon  Him  with  a  firm  and  steady  reliance,  which  brings 
peace  and  quietness  to  their  minds. 

But  how,  it  may  be  asked,  does  this  confidence  in 
God  make  itself  known?  Do  they  who  possess  it  grow 
negligent  and  presumptuous  in  proportion  as  their  reli- 
ance upon  God  is  increased?  Far  otherwise — the  more 
they  stay  themselves  upon  Him,  the  more  solicitous  do 
they  become  to  walk  worthy  of  the  Lord,  unto  all 
pleasing;  being  found  in  the  active  discharge  of  those 
duties,  which  are  assigned  to  them  in  the  places  and 
relations  which  they  hold.  One  great  object  they  have 
in  going  to  God  and  putting  their  trust  in  Him,  is  that 
they  may  derive  strength  to  do  his  will  and  approve 
themselves  to  his  holy  and  all-searching   eye.     There 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE    OF  PEACE.  189 

can  be  no  confidence  where  there  is  no  love, — and  surely 
there  can  be  no  love,  where  there  is  not  a  dutiful  regard 
to  God's  will.  Their  confidence  and  obedience  will 
alvays  keep  pace  with  each  other. 

They  show  their  reliance  upon  God,  further,  by 
cheerfully  submitting  to  his  hand  under  the  dark  and 
trying  dispensations  of  his  providence.  God  often 
has  his  path  in  the  great  deep,  where  his  footsteps  can- 
not be  traced.  The  wheels  of  his  government  are 
high  and  dreadful;  and  to  the  eyes  of  mortals,  so  com- 
plicated in  their  movements,  that  no  human  wisdom 
can  penetrate  their  design.  But  this  is  no  ground  of 
discouragement  to  those  that  stay  themselves  upon  the 
Lord.  They  never  expected  that  the  counsels  of  in- 
finite wisdom  could  be  measured  by  the  short  line  of 
their  understanding.  It  is  enough  for  them  to  know 
that  God  is  upon  the  throne;  that  he  cannot  possibly 
err  in  judgment,  or  fail  to  accomplish  those  infinitely 
important  objects,  which,  in  the  measures  of  his  govern- 
ment, he  proposes,  and  which  in  their  results  embrace 
the  highest  good  of  creation,  and  the  glory  of  his  own 
great  name.  Let  God  envelope  himself  in  clouds  and 
darkness  if  he  please,  is  the  language  of  their  hearts, 
so  long  as  we  are  assured,  that  all  events  are  in  his 
hands,  and  that  he  rules  in  infinite  wisdom,  and  love. 
Dark  and  tumultuous  as  the  present  scene  now  is,  we 
have  nothing  to  fear.  He  rides  in  the  whirlwind,  and 
directs  the  storm.  The  time  must  come,  when  order 
shall  spring  out  of  confusion,  and  light  out  of  darkness, 
till  confusion  and  darkness  shall  be  no  more. 

But  they  trust  in  God,  not  only  under  dispensations 
17* 


190         CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 

which  are  dark  and  incomprehensible,  but  under  those 
also  which  are  peculiarly  painful  and  calamitous. 
Sometimes  it  pleases  God  severely  to  try  them  by  his 
chastening  rod ;  and  they  are  in  trouble,  not  so  much 
because  they  cannot  comprehend  the  dispensations  of  his 
providence,  as  because  these  dispensations  contradict 
their  strongest  earthly  wishes  and  desires.  But  here 
they  learn  to  renounce  their  own  will  and  quietly  and 
patiently  submit  to  his.  Such  views  have  they  of  the 
wisdom  and  equity  of  God's  government — such  assu- 
rance of  the  fulness,  kindness  and  stability  of  his  pro- 
mises, that  they  find  no  heart  to  complain,  however 
repeated  and  heavy  may  be  their  trials.  In  the  lan- 
guage of  Job,  they  can  say  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  him."  Or  in  that  of  David,  "  Surely  I 
have  behaved  and  quieted  myself  as  a  child  that  is 
weaned  of  his  mother:  my  soul  is  even  as  a  weaned 
child." 

Can  it  be  strange  that  such  a  temper  should  bring 
peace  with  it,  even  a  peace  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing? It  is  the  very  spirit  of  the  gospel, — a  strong 
and  decisive  characteristic  of  true  love  to  God.  But 
this  leads  us  to  consider  in  the 

II.  Second  place,  the  privilege  of  those  who  thus 
stay  themselves  upon  the  Lord.  God  will  keep  them 
in  perfect  peace.     But  what  is  this  peace? 

Shall  I  say  it  is  a  peace  which  stands  opposed  to  all 
those  corroding  cares  which  so  often  disturb  the  minds 
of  men  in  relation  to  their  present  wants;  and  which 
leads  them  to  cry,  "  What  shall  we  eat,  and  what  shall 
we  drink,  and  wherewithal  shall  we  be  clothed?"    This 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  191 

is  the  perpetual  anxiety  of  multitudes,  and  even  of 
those  who  are  possessed  of  a  competent  share  of  the 
good  things  of  this  life.  Some  are  troubled  because 
they  are  poor  and  have  nothing  laid  up  in  store  for  a 
future  day;  and  others  because,  though  possessed  of 
abundance,  they  have  no  certainty  that  this  abundance 
will  continue.  They  perceive  a  thousand  causes  at 
work,  which  may  possibly  dispossess  them  of  their  pre- 
sent means,  or  put  it  out  of  their  power  to  command 
them.  Thus  an  uneasiness  is  engendered  which  makes 
their  days  drag  heavily,  and  turns  the  current  of  life 
into  a  perturbed  stream.  But  the  peace  of  which  we 
speak  stands  opposed  to  all  this.  It  supposes  such  con- 
fidence in  the  power,  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  and 
especially  in  those  great  and  precious  promises  in  which 
God  has  bound  himself  to  watch  over  his  people,  and 
provide  for  their  wants,  as  to  lay  these  anxious  and 
devouring  cares  to  sleep.  God's  providence  is  regarded 
as  an  ample  resource,  and  the  heart  sweetly  reposes 
upon  his  infinitely  gracious  and  powerful  arm. 

Again:  This  peace  stands  opposed  to  all  those  in- 
ward tumults  which  arise  from  discordant  and  malignant 
passions.  Where  these  are  indulged,  they  make  the 
soul  like  the  troubled  sea,  which  cannot  rest,  whose 
waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.  But  they  who  stay  them- 
selves upon  God,  are  in  a  measure  conformed  to  his 
will;  they  have  crucified  the  flesh  with  its  affections 
and  lusts  ;  and  consequently  experience  in  their  own 
bosoms  the  truth  of  that  declaration — that "  the  work  of 
righteousness  is  peace,  and  the  eflfect  of  righteous- 
ness, quietness  and  assurance  forever."     They  are  not 


192         CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD    PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 

indeed  sinlessly  perfect,  and  therefore  something  like  a 
warfare  must  be  going  on  between  the  old  man  and  the 
new;  still  "  this  is  their  rejoicing,  even  the  testimony 
of  their  conscience,  that  in  simplicity  and  godly  sin- 
cerity, they  have  their  conversation  in  the  w^orld,  not 
by  fleshly  wisdom,  but  by  the  grace  of  God."  Having 
sincerely  aimed  to  do  the  divine  w^ill,  and  looking  to 
the  blood  of  Christ  for  the  pardon  of  whatever  is  amiss, 
they  have  confidence  towards  God,  and  rejoice  in  the 
hope  of  eternal  life.  Hence  comes  a  sweet  and  heav- 
enly tranquility,  known  only  to  those  whose  souls  are 
sanctified  by  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  sprinkled  by  the 
peace-speakirig  blood  of  the  Lamb.  The  tormenting 
and  guilty  passions  are  subdued  and  the  forebodings  of 
an   accusing  conscience  taken  away. 

But  finally:  the  peace  which  God  promises  to  those 
whose  minds  are  stayed  upon  him,  comprehends  in  it  a 
deliverance  not  merely  from  the  specific  evils  already 
named,  but  from  all  those  endless  disquietudes,  fears  and 
disgusts  w^hich  spring  up  in  the  heart  of  man  in  this 
world;  while  it  spreads  the  sincerest  satisfaction  and 
the  most  sublime  and  heavenly  tranquility  through  all 
the  powers  of  the  soul.  Do  you  ask  how  this  is  accom- 
plished? I  answer  in  two  ways; — by  finding  in  God 
a  complete  security  against  every  possible  evil,  and  a 
provision  for  all  that  the  soul  needs  in  this  world  or  that 
which  is  to  come. 

They  who  stay  themselves  upon  God  may  be  assured 
that  they  have  nothing  to  fear.  God  has  undertaken 
to  be  their  Almighty  Guardian:  his  eternal  wisdom, 
power  and  goodness  stand   pledged  that  nothing  shall 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  193 

befal  them  which  shall  not  eventually  work  for  their 
good.  And  they  have  an  assurance  no  less  strong,  that 
he  will  withhold  nothing  which  is  needful  to  their 
highest  felicity.  In  short,  they  behold  in  God  an  all 
sufficient  portion; — enough  to  satisfy  the  most  expanded 
desires  of  their  souls.  What  then  can  disturb  them? 
Why  should  not  their  peace  be  unshaken  and  entire, — 
in  other  words,  a  perfect  peace?  Such  it  is,  and  such 
it  will  continue  to  be,  so  long  as  their  confidence  in  God 
is  firm  and  unwavering.  No  matter  what  changes  may 
occur — they  may  boldly  say  with  the  church,  in  the 
forty-sixth  Psalm,  "  God  is  our  refuge  and  strength,  a 
very  present  help  in  trouble;  therefore  will  not  we  fear 
though  the  earth  be  removed,  and  though  the  moun- 
tains be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea:  though  the 
w^aters  thereof  roar,  and  the  mountains  shake  with  the 
swellings  thereof  The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  with  us,  the 
God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge." 

What  remains  is  a  brief  application  of  the  subject. 
Who  can  help  remarking  in  the 

First  place:  How  thankful  we  ought  to  be  that  God 
has  opened  a  way  for  our  happiness,  which  is  equally 
accessible  to  all  men,  where  the  gospel  comes.  Whether 
rich  or  poor;  honorable  or  despised;  learned  or  igno- 
rant; bond  or  free — whatever  may  be  our  external  cir- 
cumstances, there  is  nothing  to  prevent  our  being 
truly  and  substantially  happy,  if  we  will  but  return  to 
the  Father  of  Mercies,  and  place  our  confidence  exclu- 
sively in  Him.  In  every  condition  God  is  able  to  come 
near  to  us,  and  pour  the  light  of  his  glory  into  our 
souls;  He  can  so  fill  us  with  Himself  as  to  shut  out  fear 


194  CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF    PEACE. 

and  want  and  sorrow  of  every  kind,  and  make  us  the 
subjects  of  a  peace  which  is  sweet  and  sublime,  and 
which  passeth  all  understanding  and  knowledge.  Nay, 
he  has  promised  to  do  this,  in  every  case  where  we 
abandon  all  ultimate  confidence  in  the  creature  and  trust 
in  him  alone.  If  we  are  not  happy  then,  it  must  be 
our  ow'n  fault;  for  here  is  a  wide  and  effectual  door 
opened  for  it,  and  a  door  which  is  equally  free  and 
inviting  to  all.  Say  not  then,  O  man,  that  thy  lot  is 
hard;  that  a  thousand  cares  and  wants  and  anxieties 
press  upon  thee,  and  thy  life  is  only  a  scene  of  vexa- 
tion and  sorrow.  This  is  reproaching  the  goodness  of 
thy  Creator,  and  the  tender  mercies  of  thy  Redeemer. 
Rather  fall  at  his  feet  in  thankful  acknowledgement  of 
his  kindness,  and  receive  from  his  infinite  bounty 
the  good  which  he  offers  thee.     I  remark. 

Secondly:  How  incalculable  must  be  the  folly  and 
guilt  of  those  who  still  keep  at  a  distance  from  God  I 
What  do  such  persons  expect?  Do  they  expect  that 
their  experiments  will  issue  differently  from  those 
which  have  been  made  by  others  in  every  preceding 
generation?  When  did  a  human  being  ever  find  a  true 
and  soul-satisfying  peace  in  the  acquisitions  and  enjoy- 
ments of  the  world?  Millions  have  made  the  trial, 
and  have  made  it  under  every  possible  advantage,  and  the 
result  has  always  been  the  same.  With  Solomon 
they  have  been  forced  to  cry  at  last,  "  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties, all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  If  the  world 
could  make  men  happy,  why  this  perpetual  disquietude 
in  their  own  bosoms?  Why  do  they  look  forward  for 
enjoyment — and  not  sit  down  content  w^ththe  present? 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD    PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  195 

This  restlessness,  this  continual  reaching  after  something 
■N^^hich  is  not  yet  attained; — this  happiness  of  next  week, 
or  next  year,  is  a  shrewd  indication  of  the  poverty  of 
the  world.  It  proclaims  loudly  in  every  ear,  if  men 
would  but  hear  it,  that  they  have  set  out  upon  a  wrong 
course, — that  they  are  pursuing  shadows  instead  of  the 
substance;  and  that  if  ever  they  design  to  be  happy, 
they  must  tread  back  their  steps  and  take  a  new  direc- 
tion. Yes,  it  calls  them  to  abandon  the  broken  cistern, 
and  come  away  to  God  the  fountain  of  living  waters, 
where  they  may  drink  and  thirst  no  more. 

To  Him  then  let  me  invite  you,  one  and  all,  to  re- 
turn. You  will  never  find  a  peace  in  your  bosoms 
which  deserves  the  name  of  peace,  till  this  is  done. 
God  has  so  constituted  our  minds  that  nothing  but 
Himself  can  be  to  them  a  satisfying  portion.  Our  souls 
are  immortal,  and  they  thirst  for  a  happiness  which  is 
commensurate  with  their  being.  They  will  not,  they 
can  not  be  content  with  objects  which  we  see  every  day 
perishing  before  our  eyes.  0  then  let  us  come  unto 
God,  the  infinite  God,  for  He  is  the  fountain  of  Being, 
and  an  ocean  of  blessedness.  Let  us  come  with  an 
humble  and  broken  heart,  for  our  past  sins  and  follies, — 
and  with  a  believing  and  child  like  confidence  that  we 
may  henceforth  stay  ourselves  upon  Him,  as  upon  the 
eternal  rock.  Let  us  say  to  ourselves,  in  the  language 
of  David,  "  My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon  God,  for  my 
expectation  is  from  him."  And  especially  let  me 
exhort  those  to  do  this,  who  are  in  any  peculiar  trouble, 
whether  of  body  or  mind.  Does  want  or  poverty- 
assail  you?     Go  and  repose  yourselves  upon  Him,  who 


196  CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE    OF  TEACE. 

opens  his  hand  and  supplies  the  vrants  of  every  living 
thing.  He  knows  all  the  fowls  of  the  mountains;  and 
the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills  are  his.  His  providence 
is  not  only  rich  and  extensive,  embracing  the  interests 
of  all  worlds,  but  in  the  highest  degree  minute  and 
special;  it  extends  its  regards  even  to  the  falling  of  a 
sparrow,  and  to  Ihe  numbering  of  the  hairs  on  your  head. 

Does  your  heart  bleed  under  a  separation  from  the 
dearest  earthly  friend?  Go  to  Him  who  will  be 
better  to  you  than  father  or  mother,  son  or  daughter, 
or  any  earthly  relative.  Now  that  the  stream  is  dried 
up,  you  have  a  new^  call  to  hasten  to  God,  the  fountain, 
and  unbosom  yourself  to  Him.  Roll  all  your  cares 
and  burdens  upon  his  arm; — say  with  David,  "The 
Lord  liveth,  the  Lord  liveth  and  blessed  be  my  Rock." 

Are  you  grieved  with  those  w^ho  have  deceived  and 
forsaken  you?  Go  to  God,  the  everlasting  God,  w^hose 
friendship  is  sincere  and  unchangeable,  like  Himself. 
His  promise  is,  "  I  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake 
thee."  "  The  mountains  shall  depart  and  the  hills  be 
removed,  but  my  kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee; 
neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  removed, 
saith  the  Lord,  that  hath  mercy  on  thee."  Those 
whom  he  loves,  he  loves  unto  the  end.  Nothing  can 
separate  between  him  and  them.  "  Fear  not,"  saith 
he,  "  I  am  thy  shield,  thy  exceeding  great  reward." 

Do  you  find  yourself  alone  and  unprotected  in  the 
world;  subject  to  a  thousand  cares  and  anxieties  which 
you  cannot  disclose?  We  invite  you  to  Him,  w'ho  is 
the  friend  of  the  friendless,  and  the  judge  of  the  father- 
less, and  the  widow  in  his  holy  habitation.     Come  and 


CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE.  197 

stay  yourself  upon  Jehovah,  for  in  Him  is  everlasting 
strength.  He  is  ever  near  you,  and  his  Almighty  arm 
shall  be  round  about  you.  He  will  quiet  those  fears 
which  agitate  your  bosom;  he  will  soften  or  banish 
your  cares,  and  fill  you  with  that  blessed  composure 
of  mind,  which  results  from  a  confidence  in  his  wis- 
dom and  love. 

Do  enemies,  powerful  and  malignant,  lie  in  wait  for 
you?  Do  they  watch  for  your  halting,  and  with  the 
greediness  of  lions,  stand  ready  to  devour  you?  Go 
to  Him  who  will  hide  you  in  the  secret  of  his  pavilion, 
from  the  strife  of  tongues,  and  from  the  violence  of 
those  who  would  injure  you.  He  that  toucheth  you, 
toucheth  the  apple  of  mine  eye,  says  this  Almighty 
friend;  and  as  soon  could  Omniscience  be  surprised, 
and  eternal  power  defeated,  as  one  hair  of  your  head 
injured  while  you  repose  your  confidence  in  him. 

Are  you  all  your  life  time  subject  to  bondage  through 
fear  of  death?  This  is  the  unhappy  case  of  multitudes. 
But  I  exhort  you  to  go  to  Him  who  can  turn  the  sha- 
dows of  death  into  the  light  of  the  morning, — to  Him 
who  is  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  and  who  has  gra- 
ciously promised  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him  shall 
never  die;  and  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he 
live. 

Do  you  feel  unhappy  or  restless  from  any  cause? 
(and  many  there  are  who  thus  feel  without  being  able 
to  trace  their  wretchedness  to  any  particular  source.) 
Go  to  God,  the  fountain  of  all  felicity.  He,  and  He 
alone,  can  calm  your  disquietudes,  and  wipe  away 
your  tears.  Hear  the  melting  language  which  he  ad- 
18 


198    CONFIDENCE  IN  GOD  PRODUCTIVE  OF  PEACE. 

dresses  to  you,  and  to  all  who  resemble  you.  "Ho 
every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters:  and 
he  that  hath  no  money;  come  ye  buy  and  eat,  yea 
come,  buy  wine  and  milk,  without  money  and  without 
price.  Wherefore  do  ye  spend  money  for  that  which 
is  not  bread?  and  your  labour,  for  that  which  satisfieth 
not?  Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and  eat  ye  that 
which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight  itself  in  fat- 
ness. Incline  your  ear  and  come  unto  me  and  hear, 
and  your  soul  shall  live;  and  I  w^ill  make  an  everlast- 
ing covenant  with  you,  even  the  sure  mercies  of 
David." 


SERMON  XI. 


THE  HE.IRT  OF  MAN  PROVED  BY  THE  PROVI- 
DENCE OF  GOD. 


DEUTERONOMY  VHI.,  2. 

"  And  tJwu  shall  remember  all  the  ivay  which  the  Lord  thy  God 
led  thee,  these  forty  years,  to  humble  thee,  and  to  prove  thee, 
to  know  what  was  in  thine  heart,  whether  thou  wouldst  keep  his 
commandments  or  noJ^ 

Every  thing  around  us  tells  that  we  are  in  a  pro- 
bationary state.  The  mixture  of  good  and  evil  which 
attends  us,  the  inequalities  of  Divine  Providence  to- 
wards the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  the  temptations 
which  assail  us  and  the  numerous  succours  offered  to 
our  aid,  proclaim,  with  united  voice,  that  this  world  is 
not  itself  the  world  of  retribution,  but  only  preparatory 
to  it.  No  man  can  seriously  reflect  upon  the  circum- 
stances of  his  present  existence,  without  perceiving 
that  he  is  borne  along  to  some  other  and  higher  destiny. 
The  events  of  each  day  exert  upon  him  a  moral  in- 
fluence; and  whether  he  attends  to  the  fact  or  not,  he 
is  growing  better,  or  growing  worse,  by  every  change 
through  which  he  passes.  In  each  fleeting  moment 
something  is  done  or  omitted  to  be  done,  for  which 


200  THE  HEART  OF  MEN  PROVED 

he  is  responsible; — something  which  dev elopes  his 
character  and  fixes  his  habits,  while  the  course  of 
Providence  towards  him  is  such  as  to  settle  the 
great  question,  whether  he  will  walk  in  the  paths 
of  virtue  or  not.  This  we  take  to  be  the  voice  of 
reason,  when  properly  consulted  on  the  subject  of  our 
present  existence,  circumstances  and  relations.  Most 
certainly  it  is  the  voice  of  God's  word.  We  no  sooner 
open  the  sacred  page,  than  we  see  written  with  a  sun- 
beam the  solemn  fact  that  this  world  is  but  a  scene  of 
preparation  for  eternity,  and  that  all  the  events  of  it 
are  desigrned  in  Providence  to  have  an  influence  on  our 
character,  and  to  stand  connected  with  our  immortal 
destiny. 

What  other  sentiment  do  you  gather  from  the  words 
which  I  have  just  read  to  you,  in  \\  hich  Closes  requires 
the  Israelites,  just  come  to  the  borders  of  the  promised 
land,  to  "  remember  all  the  way  which  the  Lord  their 
God  had  led  them  in  the  wilderness,  for  the  space  of 
forty  years;" — a  way  which  had  been  full  of  wonders, — 
full  of  suffering, — full  of  mercy;  a  way,  therefore, 
which  was  at  once  adapted  and  designed  to  "  prove 
them,  to  know  what  was  in  their  hearts,  whether  they 
would  keep  the  commandments  of  God  or  not." 

God's  dealings  towards  them  indeed  had  been  very 
peculiar,  and  there  was  a  necessity  for  that  peculiarity; — 
but  the  moral  design  was  the  same  which  he  has  had 
towards  other  nations  and  other  individuals  in  his  deal- 
ings with  them,  merely  to  prove  them,  to  show  what 
was  in  their  hearts,  and  whether  they  would  obey  him 
or  not.     As  to  ourselves,  who  live  under  the  light  of 


EY    THI  :?  Z       I    OF  GOD.  201 

li.^  _  jbt  that  God  has  the 

Si  -    ooise  which  He  is 

:i^  .._  :r  trial  for  eternity, 

a:::        -^  W  . ^   :  ^ppenedtothe 

I  .  us  to  Tind^- 

s  and  was 

'^' :  :  3n,  upon 

~i:         r^e  ends  oi  me  wc  We  are  as 

-'- the  moral  g  ij  las  they; 

c  raws  after  it,  :'ir  being 

under  a  coarse  of  moral  dis :  din 

the  formation  of  a  characte  vLl  nt  us  lor  the 

endless  retribotions  of  the  1  -  :.d. 

The  single  object  I  hare  in  Tiew,  on  this  occasicMi, 
is  to  point  ont  some  of  the  means  fay  which  it  pleases 
God  to  proTe  or  try  ns»  and  by  which  oar  characters 
win  be  formed,  and  oar  final  state  analtefably  decided. 
I.  ^s  OS  fay  his  word.     His  wmd  is,  in  an 

en:  ?  ^oochstone  of  the  heart 

by  the  doctrines  it  teachss:     There 
5  which  more  certainly  determines 
•ts,  than  the  doctrines  of  the 
i: .  :e  unholy,  and  of  coarse  nn- 

hombled,  we  diall  find  little  in  these  doctrines  to  delight 
ns;  and  much  to  displease  and  mortify  us.  The  views 
whidi  the  scriptures  give  as  of  the  character  c£  Grod, 
as  a  Beii^  of  onspotted  holioess,  who  caimot  look  on 
sin  but  with  abhorrence; — the  purity  and  extent  of  his 
law;  the  awfid  condenmation  threatened  for  the  least 
Tic^tion  of  it;  and  the  final  issae  of  his  moral  gOTem- 
in  exalting  some  to  eTcrlasting  felicity  and 
*18 


202  TRE    HEART    OF   MEN   PROVED 

banishing  others  to  the  regions  of  eternal  despair,  are 
all  calculated  not  only  to  alarm,  but  to  awaken  hostility 
in  every  unrenewed  soul.  The  carnal  mind,  which  is 
enmity  against  God,  not  subject  to  his  law,  neither  in- 
deed can  be,  never  contemplates  these  truths  with  satis- 
faction. The  native  and  entire  depravity  of  the  human 
heart;  the  sovereignty  of  God  in  the  calling  and  salva- 
tion of  sinners;  the  doctrine  of  the  divinity  and  the 
incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God; — the  expiation  of  sin 
by  his  blood, — and  the  forgiveness  of  sins  and  eternal 
life  only  through  his  name,  occasion  no  small  dissatis- 
faction to  unrenewed  men,  and  often  become  fatal  ob- 
stacles to  their  reception  of  the  scriptures.  Whereas 
all  these  doctrines,  so  far  as  they  are  understood,  are 
cordially  received  by  every  heart  sanctified  by  the 
divine  Spirit. 

God's  word  is  a  touchstone  of  the  heart  also  by  the 
precepts  which  it  inculcates.  They  are  an  unwelcome 
restraint  upon  the  appetites  and  passions  of  unholy 
men.  They  call  for  that  deadness  to  the  world, — that 
constant  and  deep  self-denial, — that  surrender  of  all 
we  have  to  God, — that  purity  of  affection  and  that  ulti- 
mate regard  to  the  divine  glory  and  the  interests  of 
another  world,  which  the  unrenewed  heart  can  never 
think  of  with  pleasure,  but  which  it  always  considers, 
when  it  can  be  brought  to  consider  at  all,  as  a  grievous 
yoke  of  bondage,  to  which  it  submits  with  the  greatest 
reluctance. 

We  need  no  other  proof  of  this  than  what  every 
wicked  man  will  find  in  his  own  bosom,  and  the  testi- 
mony which  is  constantly  given  to  this  point  in   the 


BY    THE    PROVIDENCE    OF   GOD.  203 

indifference  and  contempt  which  muhitudes  show  to- 
wards the  commands  of  their  Creator. 

It  is  far  otherwise  with  those  who  have  been  renewed 
by  divine  grace,  and  who  are  training  up  for  a  state  of 
perfect  holiness  and  happiness  in  a  better  world.  They 
love  the  precepts  as  well  as  doctrines  of  God's  word: 
they  love  them  because  they  are  perfectly  pure;  be- 
cause they  are  a  transcript  of  the  moral  charac- 
ter of  Jehovah.  Far  be  it  from  their  hearts  to 
wish  that  the  law  of  God  was  less  strict  in  its  re- 
quirements or  less  severe  in  its  sanctions.  All  the 
change  they  desire  is  in  themselves:  they  wish  to  have 
their  hearts  more  sound  in  God's  statutes,  and  are  dis- 
posed to  say  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Then  shall  I  not  be 
ashamed,  when  I  have  respect  unto  all  thy  command- 
ments." 

We  have  a  striking  illustration  of  the  different  effects 
produced  both  by  the  doctrines  and  precepts  of  God's 
word,  in  the  ministry  of  our  Saviour.  All  that  He 
taught  and  all  that  He  enjoined  operated  as  a  test  of 
the  moral  dispositions  of  his  hearers.  The  humble, 
the  penitent,  the  poor  in  spirit,  the  self-denied,  received 
Him.  They  embraced  his  doctrines  and  his  precepts 
with  joy;  all  who  were  his  sheep,  heard  his  voice  and 
followed.  But  those  w^ho  were  of  a  different  character, 
did  not.  The  proud,  self-righteous  Pharisee;  the  phi- 
losophising and  half  infidel  Sadducee;  all  indeed  who 
were  lovers  of  themselves  and  lovers  of  pleasure,  more 
than  lovers  of  God,  found  something  which  offended 
them  in  the  precepts  and  doctrines  of  the  Saviour,  and 
that  too  notwithstanding  all  the  great  and  benevolent 


204  THE  HEART  OF  MEN  PROVED 

works  which  He  performed.  Thus  it  has  been  in  every 
age.  The  word  of  the  Lord  is  not  only  a  tried 
word,  as  the  Psalmist  calls  it,  but  a  trying  word, 
which,  as  a  touchstone,  tries  the  hearts  of  men,  and 
shows  what  dispositions  they  possess. 

We  remark,  again,  that  the  word  of  God  tries  men 
by  the  very  character  of  the  evidence  which  supports  it. 

If  it  had  pleased  God,  He  could  have  given  us  the 
same  evidence  that  the  scriptures  are  his  word,  as  that 
the  sun  is  the  fountain  of  light,  or  that  He  himself  is 
the  author  of  the  universe.  He  could,  in  every  case, 
have  compelled  the  assent  of  men,  and  left  no  indivi- 
dual, where  the  gospel  is  proclaimed,  with  any  specu- 
lative doubts  as  to  the  divinity  of  its  origin.  But  He 
has  chosen  a  different,  and  for  aught  we  can  perceive, 
a  wiser  course.  He  has  chosen  to  place  before  men 
evidence  on  this  subject  sufficient  to  convince  the  hum- 
ble and  candid  inquirer;  but  not  such  as  necessarily 
to  exclude  all  doubt.  The  principle  by  which  He  is 
governed  in  this  case,  was  solemnly  affirmed  by  our 
Saviour,  when  he  said,  "If  any  will  do  his  will,  he 
shall  know  of  the  doctrine  which  I  teach,  whether  it 
be  of  God,  or  whether  I  speak  of  myself"  That  is  to 
say,  if  he  has  an  humble  and  teac  hable  disposition, 
ready  to  know^  and  do  the  will  of  God,  he  shall  be  at 
no  loss  to  ascertain  what  that  will  is.  Evidence  shall 
be  afforded  sufficient  to  satisfy  Imn,  but  not  suffi- 
cient to  remove  every  degree  of  prejudice  which  a 
disobedient,  stubborn  and  malignant  heart  can  present. 

God  intends  hereby  to  make  proof  of  the  honesty, 
the  candour  and  uprightness  of  men's  hearts.     But  what 


BY    THE    PROVroENCE    OF    GOD.  205 

proof  in  this  way  could  there  be  of  any  of  these  virtues, 
if  the  evidence  which  supports  the  authority  of  the 
word  was  of  a  kind  to  compel  belief  in  all  cases, — 
whatever  the  state  of  the  heart  might  be?  Is  it  any 
proof  that  I  have  a  good  and  honest  heart,  not  gov- 
erned by  odious  prejudices  or  selfish  views,  because  I 
believe  that  a  whole  is  greater  than  a  part,  or  that  a 
circle  is  not  a  square?  Here  is  no  trial  whatever  of 
the  temper  of  the  mind,  because  the  belief  will  be  the 
same  whatever  the  temper  of  the  mind  may  be.  But 
the  case  is  widely  different  in  deciding  upon  a  fact, 
supported  by  reasonable  testimony.  Here  is  room  to 
examine  evidence,  and  to  compare  the  probable  with 
the  improbable.  Here  is  an  opportunity  for  candour 
or  for  prejudice  to  operate;  to  give  due  weight  to  the 
testimony,  or  to  add  or  deduct  from  it,  as  the  nature  of 
the  prejudice  may  be.  Here  the  heart  is  more  or  less 
concerned  in  the  decisions  which  we  form,  and  these 
decisions  will  be  a  proper  test  of  the  moral  character 
of  our  minds.  We  need  not  say  this  is  precisely  the  case 
in  forming  our  judgment  of  the  truth  of  the  scriptures, 
and  of  the  doctrines  they  contain.  Evidence  enough 
they  bring  with  them  to  satisfy  the  humble  and  candid 
inquirer;  but  not  enough  to  bear  down  obstinate  and 
wilful  prejudice.  "  He  that  will  do  God's  wnll,  shall 
know  of  the  doctrine."  He  that  hath  an  ear,  will  hear 
and  will  understand.  But  with  regard  to  others,  the 
word  of  the  Lord  may  prove  a  burden;  a  stone  of 
stumbling  and  a  rock  of  offence;  and  thus,  the  very 
character  of  the  evidence  which  supports  that  word, 


206         THE  HEART  OF  MEN  PROVED 

will  operate  as  a  test  of  the  candour  and  sincerity  of 
those  to  whom  it  is  made  known. 

11.  But  we  observe,  secondly,  that  God  will  try  us 
by  the  imperfections  of  those  who  profess  to  embrace 
his  word,  and  especially  those  whose  business  it  is  to 
explain  and  recommend  it  to  the  world.  Why  is  it 
that  the  professors  of  religion  are  not  more  exemplary; 
why  is  it  indeed  that  they  are  not  in  a  good  measure 
perfect,  on  the  supposition  that  they  are  sincere?  If 
they  have  been  called  out  of  darkness  into  God's  mar- 
vellous light,  and  partly  with  a  view  that  they  may 
shine  as  lights  in  the  world,  how  comes  it  to  pass  that 
their  light  does  not  shine  with  greater  purity  and 
brightness? 

It  is  not,  my  dear  brethren,  because  God  has  not 
power  to  sanctify  them.  It  would  be  as  easy  for  Him 
to  complete  their  sanctification  and  make  them  perfectly 
holy  in  this  world,  as  to  do  it  in  the  world  which  is  to 
come.     But  He  has  important  reasons  for  not  doing  it. 

He  leaves  them  for  a  time  to  struggle  with  the  re- 
mains of  an  unsanctified  principle,  to  teach  them  more 
effectually  the  dreadful  nature  of  sin,  and  their  depend- 
ence on  his  power  and  grace  to  deliver  them  from  it; 
and  thus  at  last  to  heighten  their  gratitude  for  so  great 
a  mercy.  He  leaves  them  also  in  this  state  of  imper- 
fection, that  they  may  exercise  the  candour  and  charity 
of  the  world,  and  the  charity  of  one  another.  The 
mixed  character  which  they  possess, — the  light  and 
shade,  discoverable  in  their  actions,  form  a  test  of  our 
own  hearts  wonderfully  strong  and  decisive. 


BY    THE    PROVIDENCE    OF    GOD.  207 

If  we  are  not  their  friends  and  the  friends  of  the 
cause  which  they  espouse,  it  will  be  seen.  We  shall 
eagerly  catch  at  their  imperfections,  and  employ  them 
as  the  means  of  throwing  an  odium  upon  their  charac- 
ter and  of  secretly  or  openly  undermining  the  cause  in 
which  they  have  embarked.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we 
are  their  friends  or  the  friends  of  that  religion  which 
they  profess,  it  will  be  natural  to  us  to  cast  the  mantle 
of  charity  over  their  infirmities;  to  be  humbled  and 
grieved  and  not  to  rejoice  at  their  fall. 

I  cannot  dwell  upon  this  article;  but  among  all  the 
various  tests  held  up  to  us  in  the  providence  of  God, 
there  is  scarcely  one  which  will  more  certainly  unfold 
the  heart  and  show  to  us  w^hether  we  are  on  the  Lord's 
side  or  not. 

But  if  these  observations  w^ill  hold  true  with  respect 
to  the  professors  of  religion  generally,  they  will  be 
found  not  less  true  nor  less  applicable  to  the  ministers 
of  religion  in  particular.  Such  men  are  set  for  the 
defence  of  the  gospel,  and  for  the  falling  and  rising 
again  of  many  in  Israel.  They  are  of  course  watched 
with  a  jealous  eye,  and  their  imperfections,  if  strongly 
and  distinctly  marked,  cannot  but  exert  an  unfavourable 
influence  upon  the  cause  of  Christ.  Why  then,  has 
not  God  given  them  more  grace,  that  they  may  exhibit 
a  more  blameless  and  edifying  example  among  the 
people  of  their  charge,  w^hether  believers  or  unbelievers? 
Why  indeed  has  he  ever  suffered  them  to  fall  into  sins 
reproachful  to  his  cause,  or  permitted  them  even  to  be 
suspected  of  such  sins?     Surely  it  is  that  he  may  hum- 


208  THE  HEART  OF  MEN  PROVED 

ble  them,  both  individually  and  collectively.  It  is  that 
he  may  prove  the  candour  and  the  charity  both  of  the 
church  and  the  world.  These  remarks  are  not  intended 
as  an  apology  for  the  sins  and  infirmities  of  any  class 
of  men  ;  but  merely  to  exhibit  a  fact  in  which  we  are 
all  interested, — that  God  will  prove  us  by  the  imper- 
fections and  follies  of  those  who  profess  to  embrace  his 
word.  He  could  easily  have  ordered  it  otherwise;  and 
in  our  zeal  for  his  cause,  we  may  sometimes  be  tempted 
to  wish  it  had  been  otherwise.  But  we  should  remem- 
ber that  He  has  purposely  permitted  this  shade  to  be 
cast  over  the  interests  of  religion,  not  to  disparage  reli- 
gion, but  to  lead  us  to  distinguish  between  its  true  and 
false  professors,  and  between  religion  itself  and  profes- 
sors of  any  description.  He  has  suffered  this  state 
of  things  to  exist,  to  exercise  our  charity  and  can- 
dour, and  to  stir  us  up  to  honest  and  persevering  in- 
quiry. 

For  the  same  reason  too,  has  He  permitted  a  diversity 
of  sentiment  among  the  friends  of  his  kingdom.  Not 
only  have  good  men  honestly  differed  among  themselves 
about  points  unessential  in  the  scheme  of  Christianity, 
but  men  of  corrupt  minds  have  risen  up,  who  have 
laboured  with  incredible  zeal  and  ingenuity  to  obscure 
the  light  of  divine  truth  and  to  draw  away  disciples 
after  them.  There  were  false  prophets  anciently  among 
the  Jews,  as  there  were  false  prophets  and  false  teachers 
among  the  early  Christians;  and  the  design  of  both, 
was  to  prove  men,  whether  they  would  wholly  follow 
the  Lord  or  not.     Sufficient  helps  were  afforded  to  dis- 


BY  THE  PROVIDENCE  OF  GOD.  209 

tinguish  truth  from  error,  and  if  men  did  not  distinguish, 
the  fault  was  their  own,  and  they  suffered  justly  the 
consequences  of  delusion.     Thus  it  is  still. 

III.  But  we  hasten  to  observe,  in  the  third  place, 
that  God  proves  us  by  the  various  dispensations  of  his 
providence.  Eveiy  event,  whether  prosperous  or  ca- 
lamitous, does  something  in  unfolding  the  heart,  and 
determining  the  character.  Even  the  most  trifling 
occurrence  sometimes  seems  to  have  the  greatest  influ- 
ence. Our  lives  are  truly  said  to  be  made  up  of  little 
things;  and  it  is  in  these  little  things,  where  there  is 
the  least  guard  upon  our  sentiments  and  conduct,  that 
our  dispositions  are  most  decisively  displayed. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  enumerate  all  the  ways  in 
which  God  proves  us  by  his  kindness.  Does  He  be- 
stow upon  us  firm  and  continued  health  ?  If  our  hearts 
are  not  right  with  Hira,  we  are  in  danger  not  only  of 
ingratitude  for  this  meicy,  but  of  forgetting  in  a  sur- 
prising manner  our  dependance  on  God,  and  calculating 
with  an  unbecoming  confidence  on  the  events  of  to- 
morrow. Does  He  prosper  us  in  our  worldly  interests, 
making  wealth  to  flow  in  upon  us  like  the  tide, — or 
give  us  places  of  honour  and  distinction  among  our 
fellow^  men?  Ah!  how  easily  is  the  heart  lifted  up; 
and  how  ready  to  yield  to  the  indulgence  of  appetite; 
and  how  unwilling  to  be  controlled  by  the  authority  of 
reason  and  religion!  Does  God  surround  us  with 
endeared  relatives  and  friends  and  cause  us  to  live  in  a 
thousand  hearts;  and  a  thousand  to  live  in  ours?  Who 
does  not  see  that  this  is  a  place  of  temptation  and  trial, 
and  that  we  are  in  the  utmost  danger  of  fastening  our 
19 


210  THE  HEART  OF  MEN  PROVED 

affections  too  intensely  on  those  to  whom  we  are  so 
tenderly  united,  and  giving  them  that  ascendancy  in 
our  hearts,  which  is  due  to  God  alone? 

But  the  Lord  sometimes  reverses  the  scene,  and 
proves  us  by  the  crosses  and  afflictions  which  He  lays 
upon  us.  We  are  smitten  by  disease,  and  confined  for 
weeks  or  months  to  the  bed  of  pain  and  languishment. 
Our  w^ealth  is  scattered  by  misfortune  or  torn  from  us 
by  violence;  all  our  worldly  enterprises  fail;  em- 
barassment,  disappointment  and  mortification  succeed. 
Our  friends  forsake  us,  and  want  presses  upon  us, 
and  upon  those  who  are  placed  under  our  protection. 
Perhaps  death  makes  an  inroad  upon  our  connections, 
and  sweeps  away  our  best  hopes  in  this  world;  or  if 
our  connections  are  spared,  they  live  only  to  be  the 
"witnesses  of  our  degradation  and  suffering. 

God  has  a  thousand  ways  to  afflict  us,  and  can 
multiply  our  trials  in  any  variety  or  to  any  extent,  as  He 
pleases.  But  in  whatever  way  He  passes  before  us, — 
whether  in  prosperity  or  adversity,  whether  in  things 
great  or  in  things  small,  (for  nothing  of  any  descrip- 
tion falls  out,  without  Him,)  it  is  to  prove  us;  to  make 
known  what  is  in  our  hearts: — It  is  to  try  us,  whether 
we  will  keep  his  commandments  or  not. 

I  might  say,  if  we  had  time  to  pursue  this  subject, 
that  God  proves  us  by  the  callings  which  He  allots  to 
us;  by  the  particular  characte'-  of  our  friends  and  as- 
sociates; by  the  defects  of  our  own  natural  temper, 
and  the  defects  of  those  who  surround  us;  by  the 
flatteries  of  friends  and  the  reproaches  of  enemies;  and 
finally  by  the  snares  and  devices  of  the  adversary,  w^ho 


BY    THE    PROVIDENCE    OF    GOD.  211 

goeth  about  as  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  ^vhom  he  may 
devour.  We  cannot  dwell  upon  these  topics;  we  only 
name  them. 

Let  us  then,  my  dear  friends,  pause  a  moment  and 
consider  the  solemn  circumstances  in  which  God  has 
placed  us.  We  are  in  a  state,  where  life  and  death 
are  set  before  us — all  that  can  kindle  hope  and  all  that 
can  awaken  fear.  At  the  same  time,  we  have  innu- 
merable motives  of  lesser  consequence,  springing  from 
every  quarter,  to  draw  away  our  minds  from  these 
great  interests,  and  to  put  our  souls  at  hazard.  Our 
appetites  and  passions,  our  cares  and  pursuits,  our 
wants  and  sufferings,  our  mercies  and  comforts,  our 
friends  and  enemies, — all  of  them  separately  present 
us  with  some  temptation  to  deviate  from  the  path  of 
duty.  In  the  midst  of  so  many  motives,  within  the 
call  of  such  jarring  interests  and  the  conflicts  which 
these  interests  occasion,  we  have  to  make  our  way 
through  this  world.  Every  step  we  take  is  a  victory 
gained,  or  a  triumph  lost.  The  heart  is  unfolding  as 
we  proceed,  and  every  advance  in  life  is  an  advance 
in  wisdom  or  folly,  in  duty  or  sin.  Shortly  we  shall 
reach  the  end  of  our  course,  and  find  that  our  character 
is  formed,  and  our  condition  unalterably  fixed. 

What  an  affecting  period,  my  brethren,  will  that  be 
when  we  shall  look  back  and  remember  all  the  way 
which  the  Lord  our  God  has  led  us,  to  prove  us  and  to 
show  us  what  was  in  our  hearts;  when  we  shall  con- 
template the  instructions  which  have  been  afforded  us, 
the  mercies  we  have  enjoyed,  the  changes  and  suffer- 
ings through  which  we  have  passed, — and  more  than 


212  THE  HEART  OF  MEN  PROVED 

all,  the  influence  which  these  various  events  have  had 
in  fitting  us  for  the  retributions  of  eternity  I 

How  distressing  will  it  be  to  some  to  find  that  they 
are  not  the  persons  they  hoped  to  be  in  a  dying  hour; 
that  the  siftings  of  God's  word  and  providence  have  at 
length  demonstrated  to  them  that  they  have  no  claim 
to  the  character  of  the  righteous,  and  can  never  in- 
herit their  rew^ards?  Often,  it  may  be,  they  have  had 
their  fears  how^  it  would  issue  with  them  at  last,  when 
they  have  observed  the  evil  propensities  of  their  own 
minds,  and  the  many  irregularities  w'hich  these  pro- 
pensities have  occasioned.  But  now"  the  great  ques- 
tion is  decided;  the  events  of  life  have  shown  what 
w^as  in  their  hearts;  they  have  been  tried,  and  instead 
of  coming  forth  as  gold  from  the  furnace,  seven  times 
purified,  they  appear  to  be  only  dross  and  tin.  This 
must  open  to  them  the  spring  of  unutterable  and  inter- 
minable sorrow^s.  To  escape  a  fate  so  dreadful  let  us, 
for  once,  endeavour  to  call  up  the  past ;  let  us  ask  our- 
selves before  God  what  influence  the  various  scenes  of 
life  have  already  had  upon  us;  whether  the  ghosts  of 
our  departed  hours  bring  us  good  report,  and  give  us 
ground  to  hope  for  the  future. 

What  reception  have  we  given  to  the  w^ord  of  God? 
Have  we  made  its  doctrines  the  subject  of  our  careful 
investigation?  Have  we  w^eighed  with  impartiality  the 
evidence  by  w^hich  they  are  supported,  w^hile  we  have 
faithfully  endeavoured  to  distinguish  them  from  the  doc- 
trines and  commandments  of  men?  Have  w^e  been  w^il- 
ling  to  know  the  truth,  and  do  w^e  delight  in  it  after  the 
inward  man?     When  the  great  doctrines  of  the  gospel 


BY    THE    PROVIDENCE    OF   GOD.  2 13 

have  been  set  before  us,  have  we  embraced  them  with 
cordiality,  and  rejoiced  in  them  as  a  glorious  exhibition 
of  the  divine  wisdom,  holiness  and  mercy?  Or  have 
we  secretly  or  openly  murmured  against  them,  as  hard 
sayings  which  we  were  unwilling  to  hear? 

In  what  manner  have  we  regarded  the  precepts  of 
the  gospel?  Have  we  set  them  as  a  seal  upon  our 
arms,  and  bound  them  as  with  cords  of  love  upon  our 
hearts?  Has  it  been  our  constant  and  ardent  desire  to 
be  more  conformed  to  them,  or  have  we  lived  in  the 
habitual  and  allowed  neglect  of  these  precepts,  disre- 
garding alike  their  requirements  and  their  sanctions? 

What  effect,  dear  brethren,  have  the  various  dis- 
pensations of  Divine  Providence  had  upon  us?  Do  we 
perceive  that  either  mercies  or  afflictions  have  drawn 
us  near  to  God — and  that  they  are  actually  working 
out  for  us  the  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory?  Have  we  narrowly  watched  our  tempers? 
Have  we  considered  often  the  dangers  to  which  our 
companions  or  our  callings  expose  us,  and  guarded  our- 
selves accordingly?  In  a  word,  do  w^e  perceive,  by  all 
that  passes  before  us  and  within  us,  that  we  are  ripen- 
ing for  the  world  of  retribution, — ripening  for  the  com- 
plete and  everlasting  enjoyment  of  God? 

What  effect  would  it  produce  upon  us  could  we  see 
the  liberty  and  happiness  of  a  nation,  for  a  single 
century,  staked  upon  the  conduct  of  one  man?  With 
what  awful  circumspection,  should  we  say,  ought  he  to 
demean  himselfl  How  precious  should  his  time  ap- 
pear to  him!  How  careful  to  seize  every  occasion  to 
secure  or  promote  an  object  of  such  immense  im~ 
*19 


214  THE    HEART   OF   MEN   PROVED. 

portance !  And  what  untold  guilt  and  vengeance  would 
justly  fall  upon  his  head,  if,  by  any  negligence  or  folly 
of  his,  an  interest  so  precious,  should  be  sacrificed? 
And  yet  every  one  of  us,  has  an  interest  incomparably 
more  important  staked  upon  his  conduct  in  this  world. 
Oh  that  we  were  wise  to  consider  our  latter  end — wise 
to  get  ready  for  eternity! 


SERMON  XII. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  CHRIST. 


ROMANS  VIII.,  9. 
"  JVom;  if  any  man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ  he  is  none  of 

No,  my  dear  brethren,  he  is  none  of  his;  Christ  will 
never  acknowledge  him  as  such.  If  he  has  not  the 
spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  not  Christ's  disciple,  Christ's 
friend.  He  can  hold  no  fellowship  with  Christ  in  this 
world,  nor  will  he  be  partaker  of  his  glory  in  the  world 
to  come.  If  he  has  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  not  a 
true  Christian;  whatever  he  may  profess,  or  whatever 
he  may  appear.  He  is  still  in  the  gall  of  bitterness 
and  bond  of  iniquity;  under  the  power  of  a  carnal 
mind,  which  is  enmity  against  God,  not  subject  to  the 
law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be.  There  are  no 
exceptions  to  this  statement,  mortifying  and  painful  as 
it  is.  Whosoever  has  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  is  un- 
equivocally pronounced,  by  the  passage  before  us,  to 
be  in  a  state  of  deep  and  total  alienation  from  God. 

But  what  is  it  to  have  the  spirit  of  Christ?  In  the 
sense  of  the  text,  it  is  to  have  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  third 
person  in  the  ever  adorable  Trinity,  dwelling  in  us, 
by  his  sanctifying  or  renovating  power.     This  Spirit, 


216  THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 

which  is  so  often  called  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  because 
sent  by  him  and  acting  by  his  authority,  is  given  to  all 
true  believers,  to  abide  in  them  as  a  perpetual  source 
of  life,  while  its  operation  in  their  hearts  is  compared 
to  living  water,  and  to  a  w^ell  of  w^ater  springing  up  to 
everlasting  life.  It  is  so  given  to  them,  as  never  to 
forsake  them,  but  by  its  sweet  and  invisible  power  to 
form  them  into  the  divine  image,  and  to  make  them 
meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. 

You  have  only  to  glance  your  eye  upon  this  passage, 
in  its  connection,  to  perceive  that  the  Apostle  is  speak- 
ing of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  of  his  sanctifying  energy 
in  the  hearts  of  all  true  Christians.  At  the  same  time 
his  words  suggest  another  proposition,  not  less  true  or 
appropriate, — viz.,  that  if  any  man  have  not  the  temper 
or  disposition  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his.  This  propo- 
sition results  from  the  former.  For  if  a  man  cannot  be 
Christ's  without  the  sanctifying  and  indw^elling  influ- 
ence of  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  cannot  be  Christ's,  unless 
the  very  temper  and  spirit  of  Christ  be  in  him.  It  is 
to  form  this  temper  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  given,  and 
that  he  dwells  in  the  heart  of  the  behever;  and  the 
only  proof  that  a  man  can  have  of  the  indwelling  of  this 
Almighty  Agent  is,  that  he  is  like  Christ,  or  has  the 
spirit  and  temper  of  Christ.  Here  then  is  a  subject  of 
deep  and  eternal  moment  to  us  all ; — a  subject  which  may 
well  demand  attention,  at  the  close  of  a  revival,  when 
many  are  forming  hopes  for  another  world.  The  grand 
question  now  to  be  settled  is,  whether  we  have  the 
spirit  of  Jesus  Christ  or  not;  for  on  this  depend  the 
reality  of  our  discipleship,  and  our  prospects  for  eternity. 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 


217 


Accordingly  the  single  design  of  the  discourse  will  be 
to  point  out  the  leading  characteristics  of  Christ's 
spirit,  all  of  which  are  necessary  to  constitute  us  his 
friends. 

I.  I  begin  by  remarking  that  his  spirit  is  eminently 
a  spirit  of  humility. 

Christ  courted  no  splendour,  and  made  no  vain  and 
empty  parade  in  the  days  of  his  flesh.  He  even  con- 
cealed the  glories  he  possessed,  the  glories  of  his  divine 
nature,  and  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  servant,  w^hen  he 
might  have  appeared  as  the  uncreated  God,  the  Lord 
of  Heaven  and  earth.  He  did  not  strive  nor  cry,  nor 
cause  his  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  streets.  When  he 
performed  miracles  of  the  most  stupendous  character, 
which  astonished  alike  the  subjects  and  the  beholders, 
be  often  gave  a  charge  not  to  make  them  known:  and 
when  the  multitudes,  struck  by  the  power  of  his  preach- 
ing, and  the  splendour  of  his  works,  gathered  them- 
selves together,  and  sought  to  make  him  king,  he  in- 
stantly withdrew  from  them  and  retired  into  a  secret 
place.  Born  in  deep  poverty,  he  w^as  contented  to  live 
in  it  till  the  day  of  his  death,  though  he  was  the  original 
Proprietor,  and  rightful  Lord  of  all  things.  He  tra- 
velled up  and  dowm  the  world  on  foot,  often  w^eary, 
often  hungry  and  thirsty,  and  often  the  subject  of  the 
bitterest  reproach.  He  never  rode  but  once  that  Ave 
read  of,  and  then  it  was  upon  an  ass's  colt,  that  he 
might  fulfil  the  prediction  of  the  prophet  concerning 
him.  Every  action  savoured  of  humility.  With  what 
condescension  did  he  treat  his  disciples,  and  those  who 
approached  him  for  the  benefit  of  his  instructions,  and 


218  THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 

for  his  healing  power  I  Ah  I  with  what  condescension 
did  he  leave  the  throne  of  glory,  to  take  upon  him  the 
form  of  sinful,  dying  man,  and  to  become  obedient  unto 
death,  even  the  accursed  death  of  the  cross  I  Herein  he 
"  humbled  himself,"  says  the  apostle;  and  it  was  an 
act  of  humility  which  will  forever  surpass  the  powers 
of  angels  fully  to  explore.  God  alone  can  adequately 
conceive  or  comprehend  it. 

Now  this  temper,  in  its  essential  qualities,  is  indis- 
pensable to  the  disciple  of  Christ.  A  man  can  no 
more  be  a  Christian  without  humility,  than  he  can  be 
an  intelligent  beino-  without  reason. 

To  be  a  Christian  is  to  put  on  Christ;  and  to  put  on 
Christ  is  to  be  like  him  in  the  grand  features  of  his 
moral  character.  But  can  we  be  like  him  without 
lowliness  of  mind,  and  without  manifesting  this  spirit 
in  our  daily  intercourse  with  men,  and  in  our  approaches 
to  God?  The  fact  is  that  Christian  humility  requires 
us  to  esteem  others  better  than  ourselves,  and  in  honour 
to  prefer  one  another,  while  it  supposes  us  to  have  some 
just  views  of  our  own  sinful  characters,  and  a  dis- 
position to  lay  ourselves  low  before  God.  A  proud, 
self-righteous,  self-satisfied  Christian,  is  a  contradiction 
in  terms,  and  as  much  a  mockery  of  reason,  as  a  kind 
or  benevolent  fiend. 

But  how  shall  I  know,  it  may  be  asked,  whether  I 
am  truly  humble,  and  especially  whether  I  am  humble 
before  God?  I  answer.  When  you  feel  like  the  pub- 
lican, who  stood  afar  off  and  durst  not  so  much  as  lift 
up  his  eyes  unto  Heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast, 
and  cried  God  be  merciful  unto  me  a  sinner;  when  you 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST.  219 

feel  like  Mary,  who  stood  behind  Jesus,  as  he  sat  at 
meat,  and  began  to  wash  his  feet  with  her  tears,  and  to 
wipe  them  with  the  hair  -of  her  head;  when  you  feel 
like  the  returning  prodigal,  who  said  to  his  father, 
"  Father  I  have  sinned  against  Heaven,  and  before  thee, 
and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son,  make  me 
as  one  of  thy  hired  servants," — give  me  the  lowest 
place  if  it  be  but  under  thy  roof,  and  I  am  content;  I 
deserve  not  even  this,  but  might  justly  be  excluded  from 
thy  family  altogether — when  you  feel  like  those  par- 
doned Israelites,  described  by  Ezekiel  in  the  sixteenth 
chapter  of  his  prophecy,  who,  while  they  remembered 
their  ways,  did  not  open  their  mouths  (in  a  confident, 
noisy,  showy  humility,)  but  were  confounded  before 
God,  because  of  their  shame,  and  because  of  the  evil 
of  their  doings;  then  may  you  be  assured  that  you  are 
the  subject  of  genuine  Christian  humility.  If  you  are 
truly  humbled  before  God,  you  w^ill  loathe  yourselves 
in  your  own  sight,  for  all  your  sins  and  abominations; 
you  w^ill  stand  amazed  at  God's  mercy  in  not  having 
cut  you  off;  you  will  desire  above  all  things,  to  be 
delivered  from  the  power  of  sin,  and  to  be  perfectly 
transformed  into  the  divine  image;  and  of  course  you 
will  not  live  allowedly  in  any  known  transgression, 
but  will  fear  God  and  show  yourselves  kind  and 
placable  towards  men. 

II.  The  spirit  of  Christ  which  every  true  Christian 
possesses,  is  a  spirit  of  meekness  and  forbearance.  This 
is  closely  allied  to  humility,  though  not  exactly  the 
same  thing.  Humility  stands  opposed  to  pride  and 
self-valuation, — meekness  to  cruelty  and  revenge.    The 


220  THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 

humble  man  forms  a  proper  estimate  of  his  own  cha- 
racter, and  is  full  of  condescension  to  those  who  are 
beneath  him.  The  meek  man  is  kind  and  gentle  to- 
w^ards  all;  soft  and  forbearing  towards  those  who  have 
injured  him.  This,  you  are  well  aware  was  eminently 
Christ's  spirit.  "  When  he  was  reviled  he  reviled  not 
again;  w^hen  he  was  persecuted  he  threatened  not,  but 
committed  himself  to  him  that  judgeth  righteously. 
He  was  led  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  sheep 
before  her  sht  arers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his 
mouth."  Nothing  like  hastiness,  keenness  or  revenge, 
appeared  in  his  whole  character.  This  indeed  cannot 
be  said  of  his  followers, — not  even  ot  the  best  of  them — 
I  mean  those  who  are  most  distinguished  for  a  careful 
imitation  of  their  heavenly  Master.  Yet  it  can  be  said, 
and  must  be  said  of  all  those  who  truly  belong  to  Christ, 
that  theyhave  a  portion  of  this  spirit.  Great  allowance 
we  are  willing  to  make  for  a  man's  natural  temperament. 
Some  are  by  nature  more  quick  to  feel  an  injury  than  oth- 
ers, and  more  ready  to  resent  it.  Some,  though  slower 
to  wrath,  yet  when  once  kindled  are  hard  to  appease; 
like  the  lion  in  the  forest,  not  soon  excited,  but  when 
stirred  up,  dreadful  to  the  foe.  But  let  a  man's  natu- 
ral disposition  be  what  it  may,  if  he  have  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  he  will  not  be  destitute  of  that  meek  and  lowly 
temper,  so  conspicuous  in  the  character  of  the  Saviour, 
and  which  the  Saviour  himself  singles  out  as  an  indis- 
pensable requisite  to  those  who  actually  take  his  yoke 
upon  them  and  learn  of  Him.  Show  me  a  man, 
who  in  his  general  deportment  is  hasty,  rash,  cruel, 
vindictive,  who,  upon  the  slightest  injury,  kindles  into 


THE    SPIRIT  OF    CHRIST.  221 

a  flame  and  forms  the  malignant  purpose  of  revenge, 
and  I  will  show  you  a  man  who  is  ignorant  of  Christ; 
a  man,  who,  if  he  thinks  himself  a  Christian,  knows 
not  his  own  heart.  Such  a  man  may  have  been 
baptized  with  water,  but  he  never  was  baptized  with 
the  Holy  Ghost.  He  may  have  made  a  loud  profession 
of  Christianity,  but  he  is  certainly  a  stranger  to  its 
spirit  and  its  power.  What  !  a  Christian — a  follower 
of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus,  and  yet  bitter  and  spite- 
ful and  revengeful — a  saint  called  to  be  holy  and  con- 
secrated to  God  in  a  new  and  heavenly  life,  and  yet  no 
gentleness,  no  forbearance,  no  long  suffering!  It  is 
impossible.  Of  such  men  we  may  say,  notwithstand- 
ing the  mask  which  they  wear,  as  Jacob  on  his  death 
bed  said  of  Simeon  and  Levi — "Instruments  of  cruelty 
are  in  their  habitations.  O  my  soul,  come  not  thou  into 
their  secret;  unto  their  assembly,  mine  honour,  be  not 
thou  united.  For  in  their  anger  they  slew  a  man,  and 
in  their  self-will  they  digged  down  a  w^all.  Cursed  be 
their  anger,  for  it  w^as  fierce,  and  their  wrath  for  it  was 
cruel.  I  will  divide  them  in  Jacob,  and  scatter  them 
in  Israel." 

III.  The  spirit  of  forgiveness  is  another  characteristic 
of  the  Christian  temper.  It  is  not  strange  that  a  meek 
and  forbearing  spirit  should  forgive.  Having  no  re- 
sentments to  cherish,  no  revengeful  purpos  e  to  execute 
why  should  it  not  forgive?  A  man  has  done  me  an 
injury,  but  if  I  feel  a  kind  and  benignant  spirit  towards 
him, — if  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  sincerely  wish 
his  v\'elfare,  and  do  not  fail  to  pray  for  it;  if  I  am 
willing  to  wipe  the  remembrance  of  his  injustice  or 
20 


222  THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 

unkindness  from  my  bosom,  and  henceforth  to  do  him 
all  the  good  in  my  power,  what  is  this  but  forgiveness 
itself?  This  is  surely  the  spirit  of  the  gospel, — the 
spirit  which  Jesus  himself  exhibited  in  the  most  won- 
derful manner  on  the  cross.  Surrounded  by  those  who 
were  filled  with  the  most  implacable  malice,  mocking 
and  insulting  his  dying  agonies,  and  thirsting  for  the 
very  last  drop  of  his  blood,  no  other  emotion  is  felt  by 
him  but  that  of  benevolence  and  compassion.  "Father," 
saith  he,  "forgive  them  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do."  Such  also  wa^  the  spirit  of  the  martyr  Stephen, 
who  while  his  enemies  were  stoning  him  to  death, 
breathed  forth  the  prayer, — "  Lord  lay  not  this  sin  to 
their  charge."  And,  brethren,  let  us  not  be  deceived. 
If  we  can  not  from  the  heart  forgive  those  who  have 
trespassed  against  us,  we  shall  lack  an  essential  point 
in  the  Christian  character,  and  may  be  sure  that  we 
ourselves  shall  not  be  forgiven. 

This  our  Lord  taught  his  disciples  in  the  prayer  com- 
monly called  the  Lord's  prayer,  but  more  explicitly  and 
with  greater  emphasis  in  the  parable  of  the  unforgiving 
servant  mentioned  in  the  eighteenth  of  Matthew.  Read 
that  parable,  my  brethren,  at  your  leisure,  and  reflect 
upon  the  solemn  application  which  Jesus  Christ  makes 
of  it.  The  servant  was  delivered  to  the  tormentors 
until  he  should  pay  all  that  was  due.  "  So  likewise," 
saith  Christ,  "  shall  my  heavenly  Father  do  also  unto 
you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every  one  his 
brother  their  trepasses."  But  what  if  my  brother  does 
not  repent, —  am  I  bound  then  to  forgive  him?  I  am  not 
bound  to  restore  him  to  my  fellowship  or  my  confidence. 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST.  223 

This  would  be  both  unreasonable  and  impossible.  But 
I  am  bound  to  exercise  a  forgiving  spirit.  I  must  show 
a  readiness  to  receive  him  to  favour,  the  moment  he 
relents  and  returns;  and  if  he  never  return,  I  am  still 
to  wish  and  pray  for  his  welfare,  and  am  forbidden  all 
desire  of  revenge.  The  example  of  Jesus  upon  the 
cross  is  a  sufficient  warrant  and  guide  upon  this  subject. 

IV.  I  remark,  in  the  fourth  place,  that  the  spirit  of 
Christ  is  a  spirit  of  patience  under  suffering,  whether 
it  be  suffering  immediately  from  the  hand  of  God,  or 
from  the  hand  of  man. 

We  live  in  a  world  of  suffering,  and  the  best  men 
are  often  the  deepest  sharers  in  it.  To  endure  what 
God  in  his  providence  lays  upon  us,  and  to  endure 
without  murmuring,  is  a  virtue  of  high  importance  to 
the  Christian  character.  Jesus  Christ  has  set  us  an 
example  here.  He  was  eminently  a  man  of  sorrows, 
and  acquainted  with  grief.  But  who  ever  heard  him 
complain?  When  did  he  utter  a  murmuring  word,  or 
vent  an  impatient  sigh?  He  had  his  name  cast  out  as 
evil;  he  was  a  reproach  and  a  bye  word  among  the 
people.  For  his  love,  they  were  his  adversaries.  The 
more  he  labored  among  them  for  their  salvation,  the 
more  pointed  was  their  malediction  and  the  more 
hardened  their  cruelty.  They  mocked  him,  they  blas- 
phemed him,  and  inflicted  on  him  the  tortures  of  the 
cross; — but  still  his  patience  failed  not.  In  the  garden, 
when  his  soul  was  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death, 
and  the  dreadful  weight  of  his  Father's  wrath  was 
pressing  upon  him,  he  cheerfully  suffered  the  will  of 
God — "  The  cup  which  my  heavenly  Father  hath  given 


224  THE    SPIRIT   OF    CHRIST. 

me  to  drink/'  saith  he,  "  shall  I  not  drink  it?"  And 
although  in  the  moment  of  his  bitterest  agony,  he 
prayed,  "  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass 
from  me,"  yet  he  immediately  subjoins,  "  Not  my  will 
but  thine  be  done."  The  most  eminent  disciple  of 
Jesus  will  no  doubt  fall  far  short  of  this  bright  ex- 
ample; still  it  is  an  essential  part  of  the  Christian 
temper  to  be  patient  in  tribulation.  Tribulation,  indeed, 
is  sent  for  the  very  purpose  of  working  patience,  and 
where  this  virtue  is  wanting,  there  also  is  the  spirit  of 
Christ  wanting. 

V.  To  this,  I  add,  that  the  spirit  of  Christ  is  emi- 
nently a  praying  spirit. 

None  of  you  can  be  ignorant  how  much  the  divine 
Redeemer  inculcated  prayer.  By  his  example,  no  less 
than  by  his  instructions,  he  often  pressed  this  duty  upon 
his  disciples.  Surprising  as  the  circumstance  may 
appear,  he  sometimes  spent  whole  nights  in  prayer. 
When  no  eye  but  his  own  was  awake,  he  poured  out 
his  soul  into  the  bosom  of  his  heavenly  Father,  and 
committed  himself  to  Him,  w^ho  had  promised  to  sus- 
tain him.  On  some  occasions  when  he  had  much  to 
occupy  him  through  the  day,  he  rose  up  very  early  in 
the  morning,  and  engaged  in  this  duty.  His  benevo- 
lent heart  found  full  and  delightful  employment  in 
praying  for  others,  if  not  for  himself. 

If  we  are  Christians  indeed,  we  are  partakers  of  the 
same  spirit.  We  shall  not  merely  pray,  and  pray  with 
constancy  and  regularity,  as  often  as  the  proper  season 
of  devotion  returns,  but  we  shall  delight  in  the  duty. 
We  shall  love  to  come  into  the  presence  of  our  hea- 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST.  225 

venly  Father,  and  unbosom  to  Him  all  our  wants 
and  all  our  sorrows.  We  shall  feel  it  a  privilege  to 
extol  and  magnify  his  name,  while  we  remember  and 
supplicate  his  mercy,  and  send  up  to  Him  our  songs  of 
thanksgiving  and  praise.  He  does  but  deceive  him- 
self, who  imagines  that  he  is  a  Christian,  unless  he 
possesses  a  spirit  of  prayer.  I  say  a  spirit  of  prayer, 
in  distinction  from  (he  gift  of  prayer.  A  man  may 
have  a  great  gift  for  the  performance  of  this  duty,  and 
be  much  admired  by  his  fellow  worshippers  for  the  flu- 
ency and  pertinency  with  which  he  pours  forth  his 
supplications,  and  yet  be  utterly  destitute  of  the  spirit. 
Prayer  is  desire,  sincere,  unequivocal  desire,  offered 
unto  God  for  things  agreeable  to  his  will,  in  the  name  of 
Christ;  and  where  there  is  no  desire,  or  none  which 
flows  from  an  humble,  believing  and  sanctified  heart, 
there  there  is  no  prayer  in  the  view  of  Him  who  trieth  the 
heart  and  the  reins.  It  is  only  a  solemn  mockery,  which 
unless  repented  of,  God  will  expose^  sooner  or  later,  to 
the  assembled  universe,  to  the  everlasting  confusion  of 
the  presumptuous  and  self-inflated  individual  who  is 
guilty  of  it. 

VI.  I  remark,  further,  that  he  is  no  less  deceived 
who  indulges  the  hope  that  he  is  a  Christian,  if  he  be 
not  dead  to  the  world.  The  spirit  of  Christ  is  a  hea- 
venly spirit, — a  spirit  which  draws  not  its  hopes  and 
its  comforts  chiefly  from  this  transitory  state.  How 
was  it  with  the  blessed  Redeemer  himself?  Did  he 
teach  that  "  a  man's  life  consists  not  in  the  abundance 
of  the  things  which  he  possesseth?"     Yes  he  taught 

this,  and  he  actually  felt  as  he  taught.     He  sought  not 
20* 


226  THE    SPIRIT   OF    CHEIST. 

the  honours  and  pageantry  of  the  world.  He  desired 
neither  its  wealth  nor  its.  pleasures.  His  soul  was 
borne  aloft  to  the  glories  of  the  unseen  state, — the  glo- 
ries which  he  had  with  the  Father  before  the  world 
was;  the  glories  which  he  expected  to  enjoy  hereafter 
with  all  his  redeemed;  and  to  enjoy  forever,  when  the 
darkness  and  sufferirrg  of  the  present  scene  should  have 
passed  away.  This  was  the  joy  set  before  him  to 
which  he  constantly  looked,  and  for  which  he  endured 
the  cross,  despising  the  shame. 

We  may,  if  we  please,  dream  that  we  are  Christians, 
while  our  hearts  are  buried  in  the  world,  and  while  it 
is  manifest  to  every  body  but  ourselves  that  we  are  seek- 
ing to  lay  up  treasures  here.  But  one  thing  is  certain: 
we  have  not  Christ's  spirit  while  we  hold  on,  with  such 
a  death-like  grasp,  to  the  world.  "  He  that  loveth  the 
world,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  the  love  of  the  Father  is 
not  in  him."  "  The  lusts  of  the  flesh,  the  lusts  of  the 
eye,  and  the  pride  of  life," — these  are  of  the  world; 
and  if  they  govern  us,  though  we  may  be  too  blind  to 
see  it  or  too  perverse  to  acknowledge  it,  it  is  certain 
we  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  and  shall  never  be 
owned  by  Him  as  his. 

VII.  The  spirit  of  Christ  is  also  a  resolute  and  per- 
severing spirit  in  the  discharge  of  duty.  Jesus  Christ, 
though  meek  and  gentle  as  a  lamb,  was  nevertheless 
fearless  and  determined.  He  had  a  host  of  wicked  men 
and  devils  to  oppose,  but  no  difficulties  terrified  him,  no 
sufferings  and  dangers  forced  him  back.  Whatever 
became  duty  he  resolutely  performed  it,  though  Saddu- 
cees  reproached,  and  Pharisees  blasphemed^     Such  also 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST.  227 

was  the  spirit  of  the  apostles,  and  such,  to  a  certain 
degree,  is  the  spirit  of  every  true  Christian.  If  a  man 
merely  truckle  and  calculate,  if  he  balance  his  interest 
with  this  party  and  that,  or  with  this  friend  and  that, 
if  he  will  risk  nothing  for  conscience  sake,  or  be  driven 
from  his  own  convictions  by  a  little  worldly  loss  or 
gain,  what  claim  can  he  have  to  the  bold  and  manly 
Spirit  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  walked  so  fearlessly  in 
the  path  of  duty,  and  Avho  said — "  Lo,  I  come,  in 
the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  I  delight 
to  do  thy  will,  0  God,  yea  thy  law  is  within  my  heart." 
VIII.  I  mention  a  disinterested  love  to  man  as  another 
branch  of  the  Christian  temper 5  and  was  not  this 
emphatically  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ?  What  brought 
him  from  Heaven  to  earth?  What  induced  him  to 
take  our  nature  upon  him,  with  all  its  weakness  and 
infirmities,  sin  only  excepted?  Why  did  he  pass 
through  that  wonderful  scene  of  humiliation  and  suffer- 
ing which  reached  from  the  manger  to  the  cross?  Why 
did  he  bow  his  head,  at  last,  in  unknown  agonies,  and 
sink  to  the  weakness  and  dishonours  of  the  grave? 
Was  it  to  redeem  a  race  of  beings  who  had  been  kind 
and  dutiful  to  him,  or  who,  when  redeemed,  could  make 
any  adequate  return  for  his  love?  No  I  it  was  for  his 
enemies  literally  that  this  amazing  sacrifice  was  made; — 
for  those  who  had  not  implored  this  mercy  at  his  hands, 
nor  would  be  willing  to  accept  of  it,  but  through  the 
interposition  of  his  sovereign  and  all-conquering  grace. 
Here  was  love  without  a  parallel, — love  stronger  than 
death, — love  of  the  most  tender  and  disinterested  cha- 
racter. 


228  THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 

If  we  have  the  spirit  of  Christ,  a  compassion  like 
this  will  dwell  in  our  own  bosoms.  We  shall  take  a 
deep  interest  in  the  happiness  of  our  fellow  men,  and 
especially  in  their  eternal  happiness.  Whoever  they 
are,  and  wherever  they  are,  we  shall  desire  sincerely 
and  intensely  their  highest  welfare.  It  will  not  be 
enough  that  we  love  the  immediate  circle  of  our  friends, 
that  we  are  kind  to  those  who  are  kind  to  us.  Our 
generous  bosoms  will  warm  with  affection  towards  the 
whole  human  family.  We  shall  be  able  to  love  those 
that  hate  us,  and  pray  for  those  that  despitefully  use 
and  persecute  us. 

Finally:  The  same  virtuous  and  heavenly  disposition 
w\\]  show  itself  in  supreme  love  to  God  and  in  a  tender 
regard  for  his  honour.  This  was  preeminently  Christ's 
spii  it.  His  Father's  interest  and  his  Father's  honour 
lay  near  his  heart.  He  had  dwelt  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father  from  eternity.  He  surveyed  His  glories  with 
more  than  an  angel's  eye,  and  burned  in  affection  to 
Him  with  all  the  powers  of  Deity  and  humanity 
united.  It  w^as  to  unfold  his  Father's  character,  to  set 
his  glory  high  in  the  presence  of  the  intelligent  uni- 
verse, that  he  made  his  appearance  in  our  w^orld.  "  I 
came  not,"  saith  he,  "  to  do  mine  own  will  or  to  seek 
mine  own  glory,  but  to  do  the  will,  and  to  seek  the 
glory  of  Him  that  sent  me."  His  zeal  in  the  temple, 
w^hen  he  drove  from  thence  those  that  bought  and  sold, 
and  overthrew  the  tables  of  the  money  changers,  suffi- 
ciently demonstrates  his  tender  concern  for  his  Father's 
honour,  and  his  readiness  to  vindicate  the  rights  of  his 
sacred  cause.     A  similar  zeal  though  far  less  pure  in 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST.  229 

its  operation,  glows  in  the  heart  of  every  sincere  disci- 
ple of  Jesus.  Enlightened  from  above,  he  discerns 
enough  of  the  divine  glory,  to  throw  a  shade  over  all  ter- 
restrial things.  God  appears  to  him  to  be  the  chief 
good,  and  his  glory  worthy  to  be  the  supreme  end  of  all 
his  actions.  He  feels  himself  tenderly  united  to  his 
interest  and  honour.  Such,  my  dear  brethren,  is  the 
spirit  of  Jesus,  and  such,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
is  our  spirit,  if  we  are  in  reality  his  friends. 

What  then  can  we  say  for  ourselves,  in  a  review  o^ 
this  subject?  What  indeed  has  conscience  said  already? 
Does  the  spirit  of  Christ  dwell  in  us,— yea,  or  nay?  I 
do  not  ask  if  it  dwell  in  our  neighbours  or  in  our  Chris- 
tian brethren  generally — does  it  dwell  in  our  own  souls? 
Let  each  waiting  heart  before  God  this  evening,  answer 
the  question  for  himself,  personally.  Say,  my  dear 
brother,  or  my  dear  sister,  hast  thou  the  humility  and 
condescension  of  Jesus?  Hast  thou  his  meekness  and 
forbearance?  Canst  thou  forgive  like  him,  suffer  like 
him,  pray  like  him?  Like  him,  are  you  dead  to  the 
world,  while  you  are  fearless  and  resolute  in  the  dis- 
charge of  duty?  Like  him,  is  your  bosom  warmed 
with  disinterested  love  to  your  fellow  men,  and  with 
a  pure  but  supreme  love  to  God,  the  Father  of  us 
all? 

If  such  be  the  fact  with  us,  we  are  Christians  indeed. 
We  are  united  to  Jesus  by  bonds  which  are  indissoluble 
and  eternal.  Christ  is  ours,  and  we  are  Christ's  ;  and 
as  certainly  as  he  is  heir  of  all  things,  so  certainly  are 
we  heirs  with  him.  We  are  children  of  the  same  Fa- 
ther— He  the  elder,  we  the  younger  brethren.     Has  he 


230  THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST. 

gone  to  Heaven  to  take  possession  of  an  immortal  in- 
heritance— he  has  gone  in  our  name;  and  it  is  his 
promise  that  where  he  is  there  shall  we  be  also.  Let 
it  be  our  concern  then,  to  grow  in  a  conformity  to  him 
in  all  things,  drinking  more  deeply  into  his  spirit,  as 
we  advance,  and  bringing  forth  fruit  more  abundantly 
to  his  praise.  But  if  the  Spirit  of  Christ  be  not  in  us, 
be  assured  we  are  none  of  his,  whatever  shining  quali- 
ties we  may  possess,  or  whatever  hopes  we  may  enter- 
tain. 

Oh  let  us  not  be  deceived,  with  the  Bible,  that  great 
fountain  of  light,  in  our  hands.  God  and  not  man  will 
judge  us;  and  the  judgment  He  will  pronounce,  will 
be  final  and  decisive.  And  let  us  bear  in  mind  that 
He  will  judge  us,  not  as  we  judge  one  another, — by 
what  passes  without,  but  by  what  passes  within.  He 
has  his  eye  directly  fixed  upon  our  hearts,  and  sees 
most  perfectly  every  latent  thought,  and  spring  of  action 
there.  Shall  we  not  then  cry  with  David — "  Search 
me,  O  Lord,  and  know  me,  try  my  reins,  and  my  heart, 
and  see  if  there  be  any  evil  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in 
the  way  which  is  everlasting." 

Let  all  those  who  are  convinced  that  they  have  not 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  awake  to  a  conviction  of  their  sin- 
fulness and  dano;er.  Remember  that  there  is  no  neutral 
ground  here.  If  you  are  not  for  Christ,  you  are  against 
him;  if  you  gather  not  with  him,  you  scatter  abroad. 
If  you  are  not  numbered  with  his  friends,  he  will  cer- 
tainly reckon  you  among  his  enemies.  And  can  it  be 
safe  for  you  to  remain  in  such  circumstances?  Can 
you  dethrone  Omnipotence,  or  successfully  oppose  the 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    CHRIST.  231 

mandate  of  theEternal  ?  Your  only  safety  is  in  yielding 
at  once  to  his  authority,  and  becoming  the  humble  and 
obedient  disciples  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  Only  let  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  be  in  you,  and  He  will  own  you  as 
his  when  you  meet  him  in  the  character  of  a  judge. 


SERMON  XIII. 


DARKNESS     SURROUNDING     GOD'S     RIGHTEOUS 
THRONE. 


PSALMS,  XCVIL,  2. 

"  Clouds  and  darkness  are  round  about  Him ;  righieousness 
and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throned 

This  psalm  is  commonly  supposed  to  have  been 
written  by  David,  on  his  restoration  to  the  throne  of 
Israel,  from  which  he  had  been  driven,  for  a  time,  by 
the  rebellion  of  his  son  Absalom.  The  mysterious  and 
distressing  circumstances  attending  this  portion  of  his 
history,  and  the  evident  interposition  of  the  hand  of 
the  Almighty,  prepared  him  to  look  deep  into  the 
ways  of  God,  and  to  adore  the  administration  of  his 
providence.  He  was  brought  to  realize  that  God's 
hand  was  more  immediately  or  remotely  concerned  in 
every  event;  that  in  things  great  and  things  small,  in 
things  above  our  comprehension  as  in  those  which  are 
level  to  it,  in  things  which  contradict  our  wishes  no 
less  than  those  which  accord  with  them,  God  acts  with 
unerring  wisdom  and  with  the  most  perfect  rectitude. 

The  psalm  begins  thus — "  The  Lord  reigneth,  let 
the  earth  rejoice,  let  the  multitude  of  isles  be  glad 
thereof     Clouds  and  darkness  are  round  about  him; 


233 

righteousness  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his 
throne."  By  clouds  and  darkness  round  about  God, 
we  are  to  understand,  the  mysteries  in  which  his  being, 
attributes  and  ways  are  involved.  Clouds  and  dark- 
ness obscure  those  objects  which  they  surround.  They 
prevent  a  clear  and  satisfying  vision.  Any  thing 
hidden  behind  a  cloud,  or  seen  through  a  dark  and  ob- 
structing medium,  must  be  seen  and  known  imperfectly. 
It  is  often  even  painful  to  contemplate  objects  thus 
obscured  by  intervening  obstacles.  And  is  not  this, 
to  a  certain  degree,  verified,  when  w^e  contemplate  the 
being  and  attributes  of  God,  as  proclaimed  by  his 
works  or  by  his  word?  Many  truths  respecting  them 
are  too  obvious  to  be  denied;  and  yet  so  far  are  they 
above  our  comprehension,  that  clouds  and  darkness 
may  be  said  to  rest  upon  them.  In  many  cases,  the 
more  we  push  our  inquiries,  the  more  does  the  darkness 
thicken  upon  us;  and  it  is  well  if  w^e  do  not  sometimes 
conclude  our  researches  by  doubts  dishonourable  to  God, 
and  injurious  to  the  cause  of  religion  and  viitue. 

But  what  is  to  be  done?  Shall  we  give  over 
thinking  upon  God,  because  we  cannot  comprehend 
Him?  Shall  we  renounce  the  truth  of  his  being,  and 
the  certainty  of  his  moral  government,  because  we 
find  things  in  both  which  are  to  us  unresolvable?  Or 
shall  we  abide  by  the  declaration  of  the  Psalmist — 
that  "  clouds  and  darkness  are  around  about  Him, 
while  righteousness  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of 
his  throne?" 

Tw^o  propositions  are  here  asserted,  both  of  them. 
21 


234  DARKNESS    SURROUNDING 

unquestionably  true,  and  both  of  the  deepest  importance. 
Let  us  consider  them  separately. 

I.  The  Psalmist  asserts  that "  clouds  and  darkness  are 
round  about  God," — a  truth  which  we  cannot  but  admit, 
if  we  reflect  a  moment  upon  his  being  and  attributes. 

That  there  is  a  God,  a  Being  of  infinite  wisdom, 
power  and  goodness,  every  object  around  us  proclaims. 
These  heavens  and  this  earth  assure  us  that  they 
must  have  had  a  cause,  and  a  cause  adequate  to  their 
existence,  and  to  the  intelligence  and  design  which 
'they  every  where  display.  So  glorious  a  structure  we 
are  certain  could  never  have  been  the  result  of  chance, 
or  a  blind  unmeaning  necessity.  As  soon  could  we 
persuade  ourselves  that  a  book  w^as  written  or  a  house 
builded  by  chance,  as  that  the  world  had  such  an  origin. 

But  when  we  have  satisfied  ourselves  that  God  is, 
and  that  He  is  the  glorious  author  of  every  thing  we 
behold,  we  have  ascended  to  the  highest  step  to  w^hich 
our  reason  will  carry  us.  The  moment  we  begin  to 
ask  how  God  exists,  or  whence  the  foundation  of  his 
being,  the  subject  rises  above  our  si2:ht — clouds  and 
darkness  rest  upon  it. 

We  say  indeed  that  God  must  have  existed  from 
eternity;  and  that  he  must  have  existed  without  any 
antecedent  cause  of  his  existence;  for  if  there  ever 
w^as  a  time  when  God  did  not  exist,  and  exist  as 
the  first  cause  of  all  things,  there  never  would  have 
been  a  time,  in  which  he  could  have  existed; — there 
never  would  have  been  any  first  cause,  nor  effects  flow 
ing  from  it,  unless  the  first  and  most    perfect   of  all 


god's  righteous  throne.  235 

causes  could  arise  absolutely  out  of  nothing.  Yet  after 
all,  what  adequate  conceptions  can  we  have  of  God's 
eternal  existence?  What  idea  can  we  form  of  a  Beino: 
who  has  no  beginning,  with  whom  there  is  no  succession 
of  thought  or  of  time,  who  is  no  older  so  to  speak,  now, 
than  he  was  millions  of  ages  past?  Is  it  not  all  dark- 
ness when  we  attempt  to  think  or  speak  upon  this  un- 
fathomable subject? 

We  say  too,  that  God  is  self -existent,  being  well 
assured  that  He  could  not  derive  his  being  from  another. 
But  do  we  understand  the  full  import  of  this  proposition? 
Can  we  see  how  it  is  that  a  being  should  exist  in  and 
of  himself,  without  any  prior  or  extraneous  cause  what- 
soever? Might  we  not  almost  as  well  conceive  of  his 
existing  without  any  proper  ground  or  reason  of  his 
existence?  Or  that  there  should  be  an  effect  without  a 
cause?  True,  it  may  be  said  that  he  exists  necessarily, 
and  that  this  necessity  has  from  eternity  been  a  reason 
or  ground  of  his  existence.  But  have  we  any  clear 
ideas  of  such  a  necessity?  Is  it  an  operative  cause 
producing  an  effect?  Or  is  it  something  different  from 
a  cause?  Is  absolute  Deity  to  be  predicated  of  it,  or  of 
that  which  it  causes  or  occasions?  Who  does  not  see 
that  impenetrable  clouds  and  darkness  rest  upon  all 
such  inquiries? 

We  are  taught,  moreover,  and  it  seems  to  be  a  dictate 
of  reason,  that  God  is  everywhere  present, — that  He 
exists  in  all  places,  for  the  same  reason  that  He  exists 
in  any  place.  But  if  God  be  everywhere  present,  is 
He  not  partly  within  these  walls,  and  partly  without, 
.ust  as  we  suppose  that  a  part  of  infinite  space  is  within 


236  DARKNESS    SURROUNDING 

these  walls,  and  a  part  without?  Yet  what  have  parts 
to  do  with  infinity?  That  which  is  divided  cannot  be 
infinite. 

The  omnipresence  of  the  Deity  is  an  attribute  above 
our  comprehension.  That  infinite  wisdom  and  power 
should  dwell  in  every  point  of  the  universe,  and  be  the 
same  in  all  points  collectively  as  in  one, — no  greater — 
no  less, — who  can  search  it  out?  Clouds  and  dark- 
ness are  round  about  God  here.  But  his  omniscience  is 
as  incomprehensible  to  us,  as  his  omnipresence.  There 
is  no  searching  of  his  understanding.  Who  can  tell 
how  it  is,  that  God  sees  perfectly,  at  one  view,  all  that 
ever  has  been  and  all  that  ever  will  be  transacted  by 
men  or  angels;  how  every  event  both  possible  and 
actual,  should  lie  so  naked  before  him,  that  there  can 
be  neither  addition   nor  diminution  to  his  knowledge? 

The  moment  we  enter  upon  this  subject,  we  find 
ourselves  beyond  our  depth.  We  perceive  thick  dark- 
ness overspreading  our  feeble  powers,  and  our  minds 
sinking  with  pain  under  the  weight  of  a  truth  which 
they  can  not  comprehend. 

As  believers  in  divine  revelation,  we  might  call 
your  attention  to  the  threefold  existence  of  the  Deity, 
as  a  subject  around  which  clouds  and  darkness  are  still 
hung.  The  scriptures  assure  us  of  this  fact,  and  on 
their  testimony  we  are  bound  to  believe  it.  Not  that 
the  persons  of  the  Godhead  are  one  in  the  same  sense 
that  they  are  three — this  would  be  a  contradiction  in 
terms;  but  that  they  are  one  in  some  sense  that  we 
cannot  comprehend.  No  one  can  justly  pretend  to 
fathom  this   mystery.     It   has  remained  inexplicable 


god's  righteous  throne.  237 

from  the  beginning,  and  every  attempt  to  unfold  it  is 
only  darkening  counsel  by  words  without  knowledge. 
It  is  a  doctrine  of  revelation  solely ;  and  to  be  received 
only  upon  the  authority  of  scripture.  We  mention  it, 
at  this  time,  merely  to  illustrate  the  declaration  of  the 
text,  that  clouds  and  darkness  are  round  about  God. 

But  further,  God  is  enveloped  in  clouds  and  dark- 
ness, not  only  with  respect  to  what  He  is,  in  his  being 
and  attributes,  but  also  with  respect  to  what  He  does, 
both  in  creating  and  governing  the  world.  Who  will 
undertake  to  show  the  wisdom  or  goodness  of  God  in 
many  appearances  of  nature  around  us,  all  of  which 
are  the  works  of  Him,  who  is  perfect  in  knowledge? 
What  wise  or  good  design  can  be  seen  in  covering  the 
earth  with  so  great  a  portion  of  water,  in  forming  so 
many  deep  and  extensive  marshes,  so  many  lofty  and 
inaccessible  mountains?  Was  it  the  primary  object 
of  this  material  world  to  be  a  convenient  habitation 
for  men  and  the  lower  orders  of  creatures  which  move 
upon  it?  If  so,  what  was  the  intention  of  vast  tracts 
of  burning  sand  and  uninhabitable  deserts?  Will  any 
one  pretend  to  see  the  wisdom  of  God  in  these  things, 
and  to  show  that  they  are  worthy  of  the  contrivance 
of  an  omniscient  and  benevolent  mind?  To  what  pur- 
pose were  noxious  plants  and  animals  created,  which 
in  their  effects  seem  only  to  injure  other  parts  of  God's 
works?  Who  knows  the  object  and  design  of  millions 
of  motes  and  insects  floating  in  the  air?  Who  can 
see  the  wisdom  of  causing  one  order  of  beings  to  sub- 
sist upon  the  sacrifice  of  another,  instead  of  providing 
for  all,  as  God  has  provided  for  the  flocks  and  herds  of 
*21 


238  DARKNESS    SURROUNDING 

the  field?  You  may  say  that  this  plan  gives  more  ex- 
istence in  the  same  compass — but  can  He  who  fills  im- 
mensity, want  compass?  Is  there  not  room  enough  in 
the  boundless  fields  of  space,  for  Him  to  multiply  his 
works  and  to  give  any  assignable  amount  of  existence? 

These  are  things  in  the  natural  world  which  rise 
above  our  comprehension.  They  are  the  operations 
indeed  of  an  infinitely  wise  God,  but  they  are  opera- 
tions in  which  He  envelopes  himself  in  clouds  and 
darkness  in  respect  to  us.  They  proclaim  the  weakness 
of  our  understandings,  when  compared  with  his  deep 
and  unfathomable  designs. 

But  let  us  look  into  the  moral  world  and  see  if  we 
are  more  competent  to  judge  of  the  dispensations  of  God 
towards  his  rational  offspring.  Why  are  so  many 
millions  of  the  human  species  born  into  the  world, 
only  as  it  were  to  gasp  and  die,  who  do  not  continue 
long  enough  in  life^  to  possess  any  visible  moral  cha- 
racter, or  to  answer  any  of  the  purposes  for  which  we 
should  suppose  human  beings  were  made?  Why  are 
so  many  cut  off  in  the  flower  of  their  age,  just  as  they 
begin  to  enjoy  life,  and  to  act  a  useful  part,  while 
others  are  continued  beyond  all  degrees  of  comfort  to 
themselves  or  usefulness  to  mankind?  Where  does  the 
wisdom  of  this  dispensation  appear?  Certain  purposes 
we  know  it  may  answer;  but  still  it  contravenes  the 
principles  and  maxims  which  govern  the  human  un- 
derstanding. 

Who  can  discover  all  the  reasons  why  a  rebellion 
hath  taken  place  under  the  government  of  God?  In 
human   governments  opposition   to  the  laws  and  the 


god's  righteous  throne.  239 

established  authorities  argues  some  weakness  in  the 
head  or  governing  power;  some  want  of  wisdom  to 
prevent,  or  power  to  control  disorder;  and  we  should 
suppose,  leaving  facts  out  of  the  question,  that,  when 
there  was  perfect  wisdom  in  the  head  to  devise,  and 
Almighty  power  to  execute,  there  would  be  entire 
subordination  to  the  governing  power;  there  universal 
peace  and  good  order  would  prevail.  But  yet  it  is  not 
so  under  the  government  of  God.  Though  a  being  of 
infinite  wisdom  and  power,  there  are  those  who  rebel 
against  his  authority  and  trample  upon  his  laws. 

We  need  not  go  to  the  regions  of  darkness — to  the 
abodes  of  fallen  angels,  for  proof  of  this  fact.  We  our- 
selves are  a  race  of  rebellious  creaturCvS.  We  have 
violated  the  laws,  and  risen  up  against  the  authority  of 
our  Creator.  And  it  is  a  matter  of  just  surprise  that 
He  should  suffer  us  to  exist  and  continue  our  rebellion 
against  Him  from  generation  to  generation.  And  we 
are  the  more  confounded  with  this  subject  when  we 
reflect  that  God  is  not  only  wise  and  powerful  but  in- 
finitely benevolent;  and  if  He  had  not  permitted  sin  and 
misery  in  his  kingdom,  we  should  have  been  ready  to 
pronounce  that  He  never  could  have  permitted  them. 
Reasoning  from  the  attributes  of  God  alone,  prior  to 
the  introduction  of  sin  and  misery,  none  of  us  would 
ever  come  to  the  conclusion  that  either  one  or  the  other 
could  happen  under  his  wise,  benevolent  and  powerful 
government. 

But  contrary  to  what  we  might  have  supposed 
probable,  how  much  sin,  how  much  misery,  how  much 
disorder,  do  we  see  in  the  kingdom  of  God  I     What 


240  DARKNESS   SURROUNDING 

distressing  scenes  has  every  age  witnessed  in  every 
part  of  the  globe;  scenes  of  pillage  and  blood; — of 
oppression  and  desolation  and  wo!  All  this  we  have 
seen  taking  place  under  the  eye,  and  by  the  permission, 
of  an  omnipotent,  infinitely  wise  and  benevolent  Being: 
— And  is  there  nothing  confounding  to  our  understand- 
ings in  such  dispensations? 

Revelation  indeed  has  thrown  much  ligbt  upon  this 
subject, — enough  perhaps  to  put  an  humble  mind  to 
rest;  still  it  is  but  little  that  we  know;  and  notwith- 
standing all  our  researches  and  inquiries,  clouds  and 
darkness  are  round  about  God  here. 

It  would  be  easy,  were  it  necessary,  to  protract  this 
part  of  the  discourse  by  referring  you  to  other  facts  and 
events,  in  which  God's  ways  are  unfathomable  to  us, 
where  He  hath  his  path  in  the  deep  waters  and  his  foot- 
steps are  not  known.     But  it  is  time  to  proceed  to  the 

II.  Second  branch  of  the  text,  in  which  the  Psalmist 
declares  that  "  righteousness  and  judgment  are  the 
habitation  of  God's  throne." 

What  an  infinite  relief  to  the  pious  and  humble  mind 
is  here, — That  though  clouds  and  darkness  are  round 
about  God,  (as  to  the  manner  of  his  being,  his  attri- 
butes and  his  providence,)  yet  righteousness  and  judg- 
ment are  the  habitation  of  his  throne; — infinite  rectitude 
presides  in  all  his  counsels,  and  directs  every  act  of 
his  government.  How  gladly  does  the  wearied  eye 
look  off  from  the  clouds  and  thick  darkness  to  this 
bright  and  cheering  view  of  the  divine  character !  Here 
it  gains  an  assurance  that  whatever  takes  place  under 
the  government  of  a  righteous  God,  must  ultimately 


god's  righteous  throne.  241 

terminate  in  his  glory,  and  the  highest  good  of  those 
that  love  Him. 

Righteousness  and  judgment,  as  the  words  are  here 
used  by  the  Psalmist,  comprehend  the  whole  moral 
character  of  the  Deity.  They  signify  not  only  the  in- 
finite rectitude  with  which  God  governs  the  world,  but 
by  necessary  implication,  they  signify  his  goodness  and 
truth;  and  even  his  wisdom.  Infinite  rectitude  cannot 
be  displayed  unless  infinite  wisdom  dictate,  and  regu- 
late the  means.  And  where  infinite  rectitude  and 
wisdom  are  employed,  infinite  goodness  and  almighty 
power  will  be  combined.  One  divine  perfection  im- 
plies and  involves  all  the  rest.  The  phraseology  here 
used  by  the  Psalmist,  is  very  peculiar  and  worthy  of 
special  notice.  He  says  not  that  God  is  righteous  and 
executes  judgment  among  his  creatures;  but  that 
"  righteousness  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his 
throne."  Though  God  over  all,  and  having  a  sove- 
reign right  to  dispose  of  his  creatures  according  to  his 
pleasure,  yet  his  throne  is  established  in  infinite  wisdom 
and  righteousness.  He  cannot  possibly  err  in  judgment 
or  do  injustice  to  the  weakest  and  meanest  of  his  sub- 
jects. Their  rights  are  as  sacred  to  Him  as  his  own. 
Both  are  adjusted  on  principles  of  unalterable  rectitude, 
and  guarded  by  almighty  power. 

Do  you  ask  for  the  proof  of  this?  Reason  itself  af- 
fords probable  arguments  for  this  statement. 

That  God  is  a  being,  wise  and  powerful,  and  inde- 
pendent of  all  other  beings,  is  a  proposition  which 
none  of  us  will  deny.  As  the  first  cause  of  all  things, 
he  must  of  necessity  possess  all  the  wisdom  and  power 


242  DARKNESS  SURROUNDING 

in  the  universe.  And  with  these  attributes,  what  mo- 
tive can  He  have  to  do  wrong?  His  own  infinite  un- 
derstanding must  dictate  what  is  right,  and  if  there  be 
no  bias,  from  mistaken  or  sinister  views,  how  is  it  pos- 
sible that  He  should  err?  But  infinite  wisdom  can 
never  act  from  mistaken  views;  and  how  can  a  Being 
who  is  greater  than  all  other  beings,  and  comprehends 
within  himself  the  sum  of  all,  act  from  sinister  or  self- 
ish views?  His  regard  to  himself  can  never  exceed 
the  greatness  and  excellence  of  his  own  being,  and  as 
He  is  necessarily  and  infinitely  above  all  want,  it  is 
impossible  that  He  should  be  tempted  to  neglect  or  in- 
jure the  work  of  his  own  hands.  When  men  depart 
from  their  duty,  it  is  always  in  expectation  of  some 
good,  real  or  imaginary, — something  which  they  have 
not,  and  which  they  fancy  can  not  be  as  easily  and  as 
readily  obtained  by  adhering  to  their  duty,  as  by  de- 
parting from  it.  Their  transgressions  of  course  can 
always  be  traced  to  some  w^eakness  or  deficiency  aris- 
ing from  their  limited  natures  and  powers.  Would 
there  be  any  room  for  self-valuation,  if  men  were  not 
limited  in  their  capacities  and  therefore  in  danger  of 
over-rating  them?  W^ould  there  be  any  room  for 
envy  or  discontent— any  room  for  artifice,  covetous- 
ness,  fraud,  or  venality,  if  the  same  limitation  of  power 
did  not  exist,  and  consequently  a  limitation  of  enjoy- 
ment? In  a  being  therefore  w^ho  is  absolutely  un- 
limited in  his  nature  and  attributes,  who  is  over  all  and 
possesses  all,  who  can  neither  err  in  judgment  nor  be 
the  subject  of  any  weakness  or  want, — can  we  con- 
ceive it  possible,  that  in  such  a  being  there  should  be 


243 

any  motive  to  depart  from  the  dictates  of  his  own  all- 
searching  understanding?  We  have  not  time  to  pur- 
sue this  argument,  but  if  we  mistake  not,  it  contains  a 
strong  presumptive  proof  of  the  holiness  and  rectitude 
of  the  divine  character. 

The  same  truth  might  be  shown,  from  the  sense  of 
good  and  evil,  which  God  has  impressed  upon  our 
minds;  for  He  who  has  caused  us  to  distinguish  be- 
tween right  and  wrong,  must  himself  make  this  dis- 
tinction. He  who  has  taught  us  to  condemn  ourselves 
and  to  condemn  others  for  a  breach  of  the  great  law  of 
righteousness,  must  himself  condemn  us  for  a  breach  of 
that  law;  and  in  his  judgment  at  least  be  the  friend  of 
virtue,  and  the  enemy  of  vice;  nay,  in  the  temper  of 
his  mind  he  must  accord  with  that  which  is  good  and 
praiseworthy,  and  be  opposed  to  that  which  is  evil. 
This  is  farther  manifest  from  the  penal  sanctions  which 
he  has  annexed  to  the  law  of  our  duty,  and  which  are 
visible  in  the  administrations  of  his  providence.  How 
many  crimes  there  are,  which  carry  their  own  punish- 
ment along  with  them;  and  which  carry  this  punish- 
ment in  the  very  constitution  of  nature  as  a  token  of 
God's  displeasure  against  sin!  How  many  more, 
which,  by  the  dispositions  implanted  in  man,  receive 
their  reward  from  the  hands  of  the  civil  magistrate,  and 
from  the  overwhelming  voice  of  public  censure !  There 
is  not  indeed  an  equal  providence  in  this  world,  or  a 
full  and  just  retribution  of  the  righteous  and  the  wicked. 
But  there  is  enough  in  the  dealings  of  God  towards 
men,  to  excite  the  most  certain  expectation  of  such  a 
retribution  hereafter.     We  see  the  beginnings  of  that 


244  DARKNESS  SURROUNDING 

moral  government,  which  is  to  have  its  completion  in 
another  world.  But  why  should  we  attempt  to  draw 
arguments  from  the  light  of  reason,  that  God  governs 
the  world  in  truth  and  righteousness?  It  is  no  farther 
useful  than  to  show  that  reason  and  revelation  speak 
the  same  language  and  mutually  confirm  each  other. 
To  the  scriptures  we  must  chiefly  repair  for  our  know- 
ledge of  God.  Here  a  light  shines  with  inexpressible 
brightness,  and  the  darkness  restraineth  it  not.  Here 
w^e  find  the  most  direct  and  solemn  assurances  that  the 
righteous  Lord  loveth  righteousness,  and  that  there  is 
no  error  or  iniquity  with  him;  that  though  "  clouds 
and  darkness  are  round  about  him,  yet  righteousness 
and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne."  This, 
every  where,  is  so  maniliestly  the  language  of  scripture 
that  I  forbear  to  quote. 

As  an  application  of  what  has  been  said,  we  may 
remark  in  the  first  place,  that  the  mysteries  which 
surround  the  Divine  Being,  ought  not  to  be  made  an 
objection  to  the  duties  of  piety,  or  hinder  us  in  the 
performance  of  those  duties.  What  if  we  can  not  com- 
prehend every  thing  in  relation  to  the  great  God? 
Neither  could  David;  and  yet  he  was  both  constant 
and  fervent  in  the  duties  of  piety.  What  if  we  can  not 
penetrate  into  the  mysteries  of  God's  self-existence  and 
eternity;  his  omniscience  or  omnipresence?  W^hat 
if  we  can  not  always  see  the  wisdom  of  his  works, 
whether  of  creation  or  providence,  or  comprehend  the 
sublime  truths  of  his  word?  Neither  could  David;  and 
yet  he  not  only  rejoiced  in  the  government  of  God, 
but  called  upon  all  the  world  to  rejoice  in  it.     "  The 


245 

Lord  reigneth;  let  the  earth  rejoice;  let  the  multitude 
of  isles  be  glad  thereof." 

The  clouds  and  darkness  that  are  round  about  God, 
are  no  proof  that  his  throne  is  not  established  in 
righteousness,  and  therefore  no  reason  why  we  should 
not  confide  in  his  government,  and  offer  him  our  warm- 
est praise. 

There  are  some  w^ho  reject  the  scriptures,  and  the 
worship  of  Jehovah  which  they  prescribe,  because  they 
contain  things  above  their  comprehension.  There  are 
others  who  reject  the  particular  providence  of  God  for 
the  same  reason ;  others  who  deny  his  moral  govern- 
ment and  even  his  very  existence,  because  they  find 
things  pertaining  to  these  subjects,  which  stretch  be- 
yond their  faculties.  But  how  unreasonable  is  this! 
Shall  we  fall  into  downright  atheism,  because  God  is 
great  and  we  are  insignificant?  Shall  we  plunge  into 
the  darkness  of  universal  scepticism,  because  we  have 
not  light  enough  in  this  embryo  of  our  existence,  fully 
to  explore  all  the  depths  of  God's  word  and  providence? 
How  much  more  becoming  our  condition  as  creatures 
of  yesterday,  to  acknowledge  our  weakness,  and  to 
yield  to  testimony  sufficient  to  command  our  assent  on 
other  subjects,  though  clouds  and  darkness  should  rest 
upon  some  of  the  doctrines  we  embrace!  Surely  it 
cannot  be  thought  surprising,  that  the  works  and  ways 
of  an  infinite  mind  should  often  rise  above  the  grasp  of 
our  feeble  powers! 

This  leads  me  to   remark,  in  the  second   place,  that 
so  far  should   we  be   from    doubting  or  complaining 
under  the  darkness  which  attends  the  government  of 
22 


246  DARKNESS    SURROUNDING 

God,  that  we  ought  to  humble  ourselves  before  Him  in 
view  of  our  own  littleness  and  guilt,  and  bless  his 
glorious  name  for  the  proof  that  He  has  given  us  of 
his  boundless  wisdom,  and  perfect  rectitude. 

What  a  foundation  does  this  view  of  his  character 
lay  for  contentment  under  all  the  allotments  of  his 
providence,  for  tranquillity  amidst  the  various  storms 
which  agitate  this  lower  world,  and  for  joy  in  the  pros- 
pect of  seeing  all  disorders  rectified,  and  the'  greatest 
possible  good  in  the  kingdom  of  God  finally  accom- 
plished. 

Let  God  envelope  himself  in  clouds,  and  thick  dark- 
ness if  He  will; — let  Him  make  darkness  his  secret 
place  and  his  pavilion  round  about  Him  dark  waters 
and  thick  clouds  of  the  skies;  so  long  as  this  blessed 
assurance  is  left,  that  whatever  events  occur,  righteous- 
ness and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne,  we 
may,  and  we  ought  to  rejoice. 

Finally:  Since  God  is  a  being  of  infinite  rectitude, 
and  governs  the  world  in  righteousness,  let  us  look  for- 
ward to  that  period,  when  He  will  take  an  account  of 
us,  as  his  servants. 

If  He  govern  the  world  in  righteousness.  He  will 
certainly  judge  the  world  in  righteousness,  and  we 
may  well  anticipate  the  solemn  day,  when  we  ourselves 
shall  stand  before  Him,  and  be  judged  according  to  the 
deeds  done  in  the  body.  Every  cloud  will  then  be 
driven  back  from  before  the  face  of  his  throne,  and  He 
will  vindicate  his  righteousness  before  the  assembled 
world.  He  will  call  to  the  Heavens  from  above,  and 
to  the  earth,  that  He  may  judge  his  people;  He  will 


247 

make  the  universe  witness  of  the  justice  and  equity  of 
hi§  proceedings.  It  will  then  no  longer  be  doubted 
whether  there  be  a  God,  whether  he  has  prescribed  a 
law^  for  his  creatures,  and  sanctioned  it  by  a  penalty; 
whether  it  shall  be  well  with  the  righteous,  and  ill 
w^ith  the  wicked.  He  will  then  show  who  is  the  only 
Potentate,  the  King  of  kings  and  the  Lord  of  lords. 
He  will  make  such  a  distribution  of  rewards,  and 
punishments,  as  to  put  a  wide  and  eternal  distinction 
between  those  that  serve  Him,  and  those  that  serve 
Him  not.  May  we,  my  brethren,  be  prepared  to  meet 
our  God  in  judgment,  to  stand  acccepted  before  Him 
through  the  merits  of  the  Saviour,  and  be  admitted  to  the 
participation  of  joys  which  shall  thrill  the  souls  of  the 
redeemed,  while  the  glories  of  the  unfolding  Deity, 
shall  pour  upon  their  sight,  and  increase  in  brightness 
as  the  years  of  eternity  roll  on. 


SERMON  YTV  * 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION. 


PSALM  XL VI.,  10. 
"Be  still  and  know  that  I  am  GodP 

As  Christians,  we  believe  in  the  existence  of  an  all- 
wise,  almighty,  and  infinitely  merciful  God,  whose 
providence  extends  to  the  minutest  concerns  of  this 
lower  world.  Even  a  sparrow  falls  not  to  the  ground 
without  his  knowledge  and  appointment.  We  believe 
that  the  time  of  our  birth  and  the  time  of  our  death, 
w^ith  all  the  trials  and  changes  which  intervene,  are 
distinctly  marked  out  by  him,  and  that  nothing  can  be- 
fall us,  which  he  will  not  overrule  for  his  own  glory 
and  the  highest  good  of  his  everlasting  kingdom. 

*  Preached  at  Newark,  January  14,  1810,  after  the  death  of 
Mr.  Lewis  Le  Conte  Congar,  a  student  of  the  Andover  Theolo- 
gical Seminary,  a  native  of  Newark  and  a  member  of  the  church 
of  which  Dr.  R.  was  Pastor. 

This  and  the  remaining  discourses  in  the  volume  were  published 
by  Dr.  Richards  in  his  lifetime ;  but  as  most  of  them  have  been 
long  out  of  print,  and  as  they  were  delivered  on  various  interesting 
occasions,  it  has  been  thought  that  they  would  perhaps  be  more 
acceptable  to  the  mass  of  readers,  than  any  thing  that  could  be 
selected  from  his  unpublished  manuscripts. 


DUTY   OF   SUBMISSION.  249 

From  these  principles,  it  might  be  expected  that  we 
should  always  peaceably  resign  ourselves  to  God's 
sovereign  will,  and  be  perfectly  tranquil  under  the 
dealings  of  his  hand.  But  how  seldom,  alas,  is  such 
an  expectation  realized  I  When  God  rises  up  in  judg- 
ment against  us  and  dashes  to  pieces  our  fondest  hopes, 
how  prone  are  we  to  rise  up  in  rebellion  against  Him, 
and  to  feel  dissatisfied  with  his  righteous  providence. 
If  He  send  death  into  our  families,  and  take  from  us  the 
objects  of  our  tenderest  affection,  the  children  of  our 
love,  the  first-born  of  our  strength,  the  hope  of  our  de- 
clining years,  oh  how  hard  is  it  often  for  our  unwilling 
hearts  to  submit  and  to  say  thy  will  he  done.  But  the 
language  of  God  to  us  on  such  occasions  is,  "  Be  still 
and  know  that  I  am  God."  Murmur  not  under  the 
severe  and  painful  stroke.  Submit  your  wills  to  my 
will.  Know  that  I  am  God,  a  holy,  A'ise,  and  sove- 
reign God;  that  I  have  an  absolute  right  to  dispose  of 
the  creatures  that  I  have  made,  to  lift  up  or  to  cast 
down,  to  kill  or  to  make  alive.  This  is  the  import  of 
the  words  before  us,  whether  we  consider  them  sepa- 
rately, or  in  connection  with  the  passage  in  which  they 
are  found. 

In  view  of  the  destruction  which  God  would  bring 
upon  the  nations  that  should  oppose  the  rising  glory  of 
his  church,  the  Psalmist  proclaims,  "  Come  behold  the 
works  of  the  Lord,  what  desolations  he  hath  made  in 
the  earth.  He  maketh  wars  to  cease  to  the  end  of  the 
earth.  He  breaketh  the  bow  and  cutteth  the  spear  in 
sunder.  He  burneth  the  chariot  in  the  fire.  Be  still 
and  know  that  I  am  God.  I  will  be  exalted  among 
22* 


250  DUTY   OF    SUBMISSION. 

the  heathen.  I  will  be  exalted  in  the  earth."  As  if 
he  had  said,  neither  murmur  nor  despond,  when  you 
shall  see  my  power  displayed  in  these  signal  and  awful 
events,  but  silently  adore  the  hand  which  sways  the 
sceptre  of  universal  dominion,  and  remember  that  I 
w^ll  be  exalted  before  all  the  people  gloriously. 

My  design  on  the  present  mournful  occasion  is  to  ex- 
plain and  recommend  the  duty  of  resignation  to  the 
divine  will. 

I.  Let  me  call  your  attention,  my  dear  brethren,  in 
the  first  place,  to  the  nature  of  this  duty. 

To  be  resigned  to  the  will  of  God  under  the  afflic- 
tive dispensations  of  his  providence,  does  not  imply  a 
stoical  insensibility.  We  are  capable  of  feeling,  and 
God  designs  we  shall  feel,  when  He  lays  his  rod  upon 
us.  To  remain  unaffected  by  the  rebukes  of  his  pro- 
vidence, would  be  to  despise  the  chastenings  of  the 
Lord,  against  which  we  are  particularly  and  solemnly 
cautioned  in  the  scriptures.  We  may  lawfully  weep 
over  our  departed  friends,  provided  we  do  not  weep,  as 
those  who  are  dissatisfied  with  the  will  of  God.  Jesus 
wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  mingled  his  tears 
with  those  of  Martha  and  Mary  on  that  sorrowful  oc- 
casion. But  though  the  sensibilities  of  our  nature  may 
be  indulged,  we  should  be  on  our  guard,  lest  they  be 
carried  to  excess.  We  should  not  suffer  them  to  waste 
our  spirits  and  unfit  us  for  the  serious  duties  of  life, 
and,  much  less,  to  stir  up  in  our  hearts  hard  and  inju- 
rious thoughts  of  God's  government. 

The  duty  of  resignation  is  happily  expressed,  in  the 
words  before  us,  by  being  still  and  knowing  that  the 


DUTY   OF   SUBMISSION.  251 

Lord  is  God;  expressions  which  imply,  that  all  the 
passions  of  the  soul  are  hushed  into  a  sweet  and  silent 
submission  before  the  throne  of  the  King  eternal. 

In  the  scriptures  resignation  to  God  is  often  described 
in  this  manner.  David  says,  on  one  occasion,  "  I  was 
dumb  and  opened  not  my  mouth,  because  thou  didst  it;" 
and,  on  another,  "  Surely  I  have  behaved  and  quieted 
myself  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of  his  mother,  my 
soul  is  even  as  a  weaned  child."  Aaron's  submission, 
at  the  death  of  his  two  sons,  who  died  in  their  sins  be- 
fore the  Lord,  is  expressed  by  holding  his  peace. 

In  conformity  with  this  language,  we  may  be  said  to 
be  still  when  our  wills  correspond  with  God's  will,  or 
w^hen  our  affections  and  desires  move  in  unison  with 
his.  God  moves  on  in  the  great  purposes  of  his  go- 
vernment with  a  power,  which  nothing  can  resist  and 
nothing  retard.  We  move  with  Him,  when  we  re- 
joice in  his  universal  government,  and  are  willing  He 
should  do  all  his  pleasure.  At  the  same  time,  it  may 
be  said  that  we  are  at  rest,  with  respect  to  God,  when 
our  desires  correspond  with  his,  just  as  the  objects 
upon  the  surface  of  the  earth  are  at  rest,  with  respect  to 
the  earth  itself,  when  they  move  with  it,  or  correspond 
with  its  motions. 

Let  me  further  remark, that  true  submission  to  God's 
will  is  a  cheerful  and  unreserved  submission. 

It  is,  in  the  first  place,  a  cheerful  submission  in  op- 
position to  force  or  constraint.  We  may  yield  to  the 
dispensations  of  providence,  as  a  matter  of  prudence, 
when  we  know  it  is  in  vain  to  contend  with  them. 
We  may  feel  in  a  degree  resigned  to  our  condition 


252  DUTY   OF   SUBMISSION. 

when  we  perceive  it  is  wholly  out  of  our  power  to 
control  or  alter  it.  This,  however,  is  only  a  forced 
submission.  The  heart  would  still  contend,  if  there 
were  any  hope  of  success.  A  cheerful  submission  to 
God's  will  is  widely  different  from  this.  Here  the 
heart  resigns  itself  and  all  its  interests  into  God's  hand, 
not  so  much,  because  it  would  be  vain  to  contend  with 
Him,  as  because  it  would  be  unreasonable.  It  regards 
not  necessity  but  duty.  It  rejoices  in  God  because  He 
does  right,  and  can  do  no  wrong.  This  is  the  leading 
principle,  and  the  grand  characteristic  of  true  submis- 
sion. 

We  remarked  also,  that  it  is  unreserved,  in  distinc- 
tion from  that  selfish  spirit  which  seeks  to  make  terms 
with  God. 

A  heart  truly  resigned  to  the  divine  will  does  not 
say,  Lord,  I  am  willing  to  endure  this  affliction,  pro- 
vided it  may  be  sanctified  to  me,  and  terminate  in  my 
salvation;  Lord,  I  am  willing  thou  shouldst  remove 
this  dear  friend,  or  that  beloved  child,  provided  he  may 
enter  into  thy  rest.  In  a  subordinate  view^,  these  things 
may  be  allowed  to  have  a  place  in  a  mind  resigned  to 
the  will  of  God;  but  they  can  never  be  the  primary 
ground  of  that  resignation.  It  is  our  duty  to  submit  to 
God,  because  we  are  his  creatures,  and  he  has  an  un- 
qualified right  to  us  and  to  all  which  appertains  to  us. 
It  is  our  duty,  because  he  is  governed  by  unerring  wis- 
dom, as  well  as  by  boundless  goodness,  in  all  his  dis- 
pensations, and  our  duty  in  this  case,  will  be  the  same, 
whether  we  or  our  particular  friends  be  made  happy  or 
not. 


DUTY   OF    SUBMISSION.  253 

II.  Let  us  in  the  second  place,  attend  to  some  of  the 
considerations,  by  which  this  duty  is  recommended. 

1.  Shall  it  be  said,  that  God  does  nothing  but  what 
is  just  and  equal  in  the  dispensations  of  his  providence, 
and  that  therefore  we  ought  to  submit  to  Him?  It  is 
an  unquestionable  truth  that,  however  He  may  contra- 
dict our  wishes,  He  will  never  trespass  upon  our  rights. 
The  rights  of  his  creatures  are  as  sacred  to  Him  as  his 
own.  He  may  deprive  them  of  many  comforts,  He  may 
take  from  them  many  dear  friends;  still  He  wrongs 
them  not.  He  takes  but  what  He  gave.  These  are  but 
lent  favours,  the  absolute  right  to  them  He  reserves  in 
his  own  power. 

This  circumstance  should  prevent  our  murmuring 
against  his  holy  providence,  how^ever  distressing  the 
privations  He  may  bring  upon  us.  The  language  of 
our  hearts  should  be.  Righteous  art  thou  O  Lord  when 
thou  speakest  and  clear  when  thou  judgest.  Thou  hast 
smitten  and  laid  us  low,  but  thy  justice  is  not  hereby 
impeached.  Thou  hast  dried  up  streams  very  sweet 
and  refreshing  to  us;  but  they  were  streams  poured 
from  thine  own  fountain.  It  is  just  they  should  return 
to  thee  again. 

2.  We  should  reflect,  moreover,  that  as  God  has  done 
nothing  in  our  affliction  but  what  He  had  a  right  to  do, 
so  He  has  done  nothing  but  what  was  wisest  and  best. 

He  always  acts  under  the  direction  of  infinite  w  is- 
dom  and  love,  and  aims  at  some  high  and  glorious  end. 
Nothing  falls  out  by  chance  with  Him;  nothing  which 
in  the  eternal  counsels  of  his  wisdom  He  did  not  pre- 
ordain.    Why  then  should  we  not  cheerfully  submit  to 


254  DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION. 

the  trials  which  He  has  appointed?  Do  we  wish  God 
to  be  less  wise  or  less  good,  or  that  his  eternal  purposes 
should  be  overthrown  ? 

But  our  unbelieving  hearts  are  ready  to  reply,  where 
is  the  wisdom  of  these  dark  and  trying  dispensations? 
The  wheels  of  his  providence  move  high  and  dreadful. 
They  astonish,  they  terrify  us. 

True,  my  brethren,  but  these  w^heels  are  full  of  eyes. 
Whether  they  go  forward  or  backward,  they  move 
w-ith  specific  and  unerring  purpose.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary that  we  should  know  w^iat  that  purpose  is.  God 
in  mercy  to  us  often  conceals  it,  and  requires  us  to 
draw  oi:r  consolation,  not  from  any  knowledge  we  have 
of  the  particular  reasons  of  his  dispensations,  but  from 
our  assurance  of  his  unbounded  wisdom  and  goodness. 

What  more  rational  motives  can  w^e  have  for  sub- 
mission to  God's  will,  under  the  calamities  with  which 
He  visits  us?  W^hat  greater  consolation  than  to  know 
that  He  reigns  in  infinite  wisdom  and  love,  and  that 
every  event  shall  be  made  to  contribute  to  his  glory 
and  to  the  best  good  of  those  who  trust  in  Him? 
How  astonishing  is  it,  that  with  this  truth  in  view,  our 
hearts  should  ever  mumur  or  despond! 

3.  I  offer  another  reason  for  submission  to  God's 
will  under  the  bereavements  to  which  his  providence 
subjects  us.  I  mean  their  merciful  tendency  and  de- 
sign with  respect  to  ourselves. 

The  afflictions  of  the  present  life  are,  for  the  most 
part,  but  a  wise  and  fatherly  discipline,  intended  to 
correct  our  follies  and  to  recover  us  to  a  sense  of  duty. 
Like  prodigal  children,  w^e  have  gone  away  from  our 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION.  255 

Father's  house,  and  the  rod  and  the  reproof  are  neces- 
sary to  bring  us  back  again.  God  in  tender  mercy  to 
us  therefore  rebukes  us,  and  though  his  rebukes  are 
often  terrible,  they  are  never  ill-timed  nor  out  of  mea- 
sure. This  circumstance  should  lead  us  cheerfully  to 
acquiesce  in  the  chastisements  with  which  He  is  pleased 
to  exercise  us.  It  is  thus  the  Apostle  reasons  with  the 
converted  Hebrews  under  their  peculiar  sufferings. 
"  We  have  had  fathers  of  our  flesh  who  corrected  us,  and 
we  gave  them  reverence;  shall  w^e  not  much  rather  be 
in  subjection  to  the  Father  of  spirits  and  live?  They 
verily  chastened  us  a  few  days  after  their  own  plea- 
sure; but  He  for  our  profit,  that  w^e  might  be  made 
partakers  of  his  holiness.  Now  no  chastening  for  the 
present  is  joyous  but  grievous,  nevertheless  afterward 
it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness  to  those 
that  are  exercised  thereby.  Wherefore  lift  up  the 
hands  that  hang  down,  and  the  feeble  knees." 

4.  Let  me  say  as  a  farther  inducement  for  submis- 
sion to  God's  will  under  trials,  that  this  is  the  only 
way  to  obtain  immediate  and  effectual  consolation  and 
support?  When  we  are  satisfied  that  the  Lord  has 
done  right,  and  feel  willing  that  He  should  dispose  of 
us  and  every  thing  dear  to  us  as  it  seemeth  good  in  his 
sight;  that  He  should  kill  and  make  alive,  wound  and 
heal  at  his  pleasure,  we  have  reached  a  point  where 
no  earthly  affliction  can  overwhelm  us;  we  are  come 
too  near  to  God  himself,  the  ocean  of  felicity,  to  feel 
very  sensibly  the  loss  of  any  earthly  good.  Oh,  my 
weeping  and  mourning  friends,  if  you  can  take  sanc- 
uary  here,  at  the  footstool  of  a  righteous  and  sove- 


256  DlfTY  OF  SUBMISSION. 

reign  God,  your  afflictions  will  soon  become  light  af- 
flictions, and  your  sorrow  be  turned  into  joy.  It  is 
God,  we  read,  who  comforteth  those  that  are  cast 
dowm,  and  his  comforts  are  like  himself,  great  and 
wonderlul.  He  can  astonish  us  as  much  by  the  tran- 
quility He  spreads  over  our  minds,  in  days  of  calamity 
and  rebuke,  as  by  the  sudden  and  dreadful  changes 
which  take  place  in  the  course  of  his  providence.  He 
can  make  us  not  only  joyful,  but  exceedingly  joyful  in 
all  our  tribulation. 

How  many  of  God's  people  have  stood  amazed  in 
the  time  of  their  affliction,  to  find  the  Lord  such  a  re- 
fuge, such  a  present  help  in  time  of  trouble.  "  The 
floods  have  lifted  up  their  voice,  the  floods  lift  up  their 
waves,  but  the  Lord  on  high  is  mightier  than  the  noise 
of  many  waters,  yea  than  the  mighty  weaves  of  the 
sea." 

5.  Finally,  if  the  Lord  has  given  us  comfortable 
hopes  that  our  departed  friends  have  exchanged  the 
sins  and  sorrows  of  this  miserable  world  for  an  eternal 
rest  in  Heaven,  is  there  nothing  here  to  reconcile  us  to 
their  death?  Embarked  with  us  on  a  stormy  and  pe- 
rilous sea,  they  have  reached  their  destined  port  before 
us,  and  shall  we  mourn  on  this  account?  Could  we 
wish  to  see  them  driven  back  in  their  course,  and  made 
to  conflict  with  the  rough  winds  and  merciless  waves 
again?  Has  the  gracious  Redeemer  heard  their  pray- 
ers, and  given  them  to  overcome  and  sit  down  with 
him  upon  his  throne,  even  as  he  has  overcome  and  is 
sat  down  with  his  Father  upon  his  throne,  and  can  we 
desire  to  see  them  again  subjected  to  the  weakness,  to 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSrON.  257 

the  temptations,  to  the  sins  and  sorrows  of  the  present 
life?  What  are  all  our  hopes  and  expectations  for 
ourselves,  but  to  finish  our  wearisome  pilgrimage  and 
enter  into  the  mansions  of  eternal  rest  and  glory.  But 
alas,  my  brethren,  we  are  afraid  of  being  left  alone  by 
the  way.  Like  the  disciples,  who  were  afflicted  at 
the  thought  of  being  separated  from  their  Master, 
though  he  was  going  to  Heaven  to  prepare  a  place  for 
them,  we  are  often  troubled  when  our  beloved  relatives 
advance  a  few  steps  before  us,  and  seize  the  crown  of 
life  sooner  than  we  expected. 

Let  us,  however,  comfort  ourselves  with  the  recol- 
lection that  they  are  gone  before  us,  only  to  make  our 
way  to  Heaven  the  more  easy,  our  progress  towards  it 
the  more  rapid,  and  our  entrance  into  it  the  more  joy- 
ful. It  is  but  a  little  while  and  we  shall  follow  them. 
Our  dust  will  soon  mingle  with  their  dust,  and  our 
spirits  join  with  their  spirits.  We  shall  meet  them  on 
a  deathless  shore — meet  them  refined  from  the  dross  of 
this  world;  and,  oh,  enrapturing  thought!  w^e  shall 
tread  the  fields  of  light  and  glory  together.  We  shall 
stand  with  them  on  Zion's  everlasting  hills,  to  look 
back  on  the  course  we  have  held  across  this  wilderness, 
to  converse  of  all  the  events  which  have  befallen  us 
in  our  pilgrimage  state,  and  to  shout  together  in  one 
eternal  song,  the  praises  of  Him,  who  loved  us  and 
washed  us  in  his  own  blood.  What  Christian's  heart 
does  not  burn  within  him  at  the  prospect?  Who  that 
hath  a  particle  of  hope  in  another  world  but  must  look 
forward  with  joy  to  the  moment,  when  he  shall  meet 
23 


258  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. 

the  departed  souls  of  his  pious  friends,  with  all  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect? 

But  what  shall  be  said,  my  dear  brethren,  of  the  dis- 
tressing event,  which  has  led  us  to  these  reflections? 
Shall  we  say  it  has  fallen  out  according  to  the  pur- 
poses of  Heaven?  Shall  we  say  that  an  infinitely  wise 
God  has  in  this  case  acted  wisely;  and  an  infinitely 
kind  and  gracious  God  fulfilled  the  designs  of  his  love 
and  mercy?  What  else  can  we  say?  God  indeed 
does  not  reveal  to  us  the  particular  reasons  of  this  dis- 
pensation; but  our  duty  is  not  the  less  plain.  It  be- 
comes us  to  bow  with  holy  resignation  to  his  will,  and 
to  say,  the  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away, 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. 

To  us,  the  life  of  our  dear  young  friend  appeared 
exceedingly  important.  Not  to  say  what  a  treasure  he 
was  to  his  parents  and  sisters,  to  whom  he  was  endeared 
by  every  circumstance  which  could  make  him  lovely, 
he  was  an  object  of  great  hope  to  the  church  of  God. 
Few  young  men  of  higher  promise  have  appeared  in 
these  days.  With  a  sound  and  vigourous  understanding, 
with  a  soft  and  obliging  temper,  he  possessed,  as  far  as 
human  eyes  can  discern,  all  the  reality  and  all  the 
lustre  of  the  Christian  virtues.  His  attainments  in 
science,  and  especially  in  that  best  of  all  sciences,  reli- 
gion, were  such  as  to  present  the  fairest  prospect  of  his 
being  a  distinguished  luminary  in  the  church  of  Christ, 
to  whose  service  he  had  publicly  and  solemnly  devoted 
himself.  We  had  hoped  that  this  rising  star  would 
long  continue  to  gladden  us  with  its  beams.     But  ah. 


DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION.  259 

how  suddenly  has  it  disappeared!  disappeared  to  us 
only.  It  is  gone  to  shine  in  other  systems  and  to  burn 
in  brighter  skies. 

God  has  affectingly  taught  us  in  this  instance  that 
his  ways  are  not  as  our  ways,  nor  his  thoughts  as  our 
thoughts.  He  has  called  this  amiable  youth  away  in 
the  morning  of  his  days,  and,  just  at  the  very  moment, 
when  the  highest  expectations  were  entertained  of  his 
immediate  and  extensive  usefulness. 

The  Lord's  will  is  done,  and  why  should  we  mourn? 
This  dear  youth  did  not  mourn  for  himself.  He  was 
willing  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ  which  is  far  better. 
To  one  of  his  friends  who  watched  his  dying  pillow, 
he  said.  What  a  mercy  will  it  be  if  the  Lord  thus  early 
shall  call  me  home  to  himself.  Not  that  he  was  im- 
patient or  wished  to  dictate  concerning  his  own  case, 
he  chose  the  will  of  the  Lord  should  be  done. 

What  greater  consolation  can  we  have  in  his  death? 
Fallen  asleep  in  Christ,  as  we  have  every  reason  to 
believe,  his  spirit  has  already  joined  the  general  assem- 
bly of  the  church  of  the  first  born  in  Heaven — and  can 
his  dearest  friends  on  earth  wish  him  to  return?  No, 
I  hear  them  say,  Stay  there  happy  spirit,  the  Lord  hath 
called  thee,  and  the  Lord  hath  need  of  thee.  Who 
knows  but  he  may  be  employed  as  a  ministering  spirit, 
or  a  guardian  angel  to  those  whom  he  loved?  Who 
can  tell  but  he  may  be  present  in  this  assembly,  or  be 
looking  from  the  battlements  above,  to  witness  the 
manner  in  which  his  departure  affects  the  church  and 
congregation  once  so  dear  to  him?  Could  he  speak  to 
us,  what  would  be  his  language?     What  would  he  say 


260  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. 

to  those  bereaved  relatives?  Dry  up  your  tears;  for 
me  to  live  was  Christ,  but  to  die  is  gain.  I  am  safely 
landed  on  the  immortal  shores;  I  have  reached  the 
bosom  of  Abraham  and  the  paradise  of  God.  Now  I 
see  as  I  am  seen;  now  I  know  as  I  am  known.  I  have 
exchanged  the  earthly  for  the  heavenly  sanctuary;  the 
songs  of  my  fellow  saints  on  earth,  for  the  songs  of  the 
redeemed  in  Heaven.  Sin  is  gone;  temptation  is  gone; 
fear  is  gone;  sorrow  is  gone;  and  all  the  former  things 
are  passed  away.  Why  mourn  ye  that  my  warfare  is 
accomplished,  and  my  toils  and  dangers  at  an  end? 
Why  weep  ye  that  I  have  reached  that  better  world 
where  weeping  and  lamentation  are  heard  no  more, 
where  all  tears  are  forever  wiped  away.  But  this  is 
not  his  voice;  his  lips  are  sealed  up  in  the  silent  grave, 
you  will  hear  him  no  more;  you  will  see  him  no  more, 
till  you  have  passed  these  borders  of  mortality,  and  are 
yourselves  ushered  into  the  invisible  and  eternal  world , 

Call  to  mind,  my  dear  brethren,  what  you  can  recol- 
lect of  his  virtues.  Imitate  the  meekness  and  the 
gentleness  of  his  spirit;  and  especially  the  simplicity 
and  the  fervour  of  his  prayers.  God  speaks  loudly  to 
us  all  in  this  providence;  he  bids  us  hasten  in  our  pre- 
paration for  death  and  eternity,  seeing  no  degree  of 
w^orth  can  save  us,  when  once  the  voice  of  the  Eternal 
Judge  calls. 

To  you,  my  dear  young  friends,  this  is  an  unusually 
solemn  providence — and  to  you,  above  all  others,  who 
have  recently  made  profession  of  religion.  One  of  the 
most  precious  and  distinguished  of  your  number  is  gone, 
gone  to  that  world  from  whose  sad  bourne  no  traveller 


DUTY   OF   SUBMISSION.  261 

returns.  His  dust  lies  mouldering  in  a  land  of  stran- 
gers; his  spirit  has  returned  to  the  God  who  gave  it. 
Are  you  prepared  to  follow  him?  Will  you  meet  him 
on  the  heavenly  plains,  when  your  spirits  like  his  shall 
be  separated  from  their  earthly  tabernacles?  He  often 
wished  it,  he  often  prayed  for  it !  May  God  of  his  in- 
finite mercy  send  an  answer  to  his  prayers  and  prepare 
you  to  meet  him  and  to  rejoice  with  him  in  the  regions 
of  eternal  bliss  and  glory. 


23^ 


262  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. 


APPENDIX. 


The  following  extracts  from  letters  written  by  gentlemen,  who 
were  intimately  acquainted  with  the  deceased  youth,  alluded 
to  in  the  preceeding  discourse,  and  some  of  whom  were 
near  him  in  his  last  moments,  furnish  an  honorable  testi- 
mony to  his  character,  "and  to  the  worth  of  that  religion  on 
whose  principles  and  hopes  his  character  was  formed. 

Extracts  of  letters  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Griffin,  to  the  parents  of 
Lends  Le  Conte  Conger. 

Boston,  Januar}^  6,  1810. 

The  Almighty  God  support  you,  my  dear  friends,  under 
the  trial  which  you  must  sustain.  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart, 
that  I  had  any  thing  agreeable  to  communicate.  And  I  have, 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  reigns!  And  our  dear  Lewis  is  happy! 
Ah,  my  heart!  why  this  aching  and  trembling!  The  will  of 
God  is  done.  Lewis  himself  wished  that  the  will  of  God 
might  be  done ;  and  am  I  confident  that  he  does  not  wish  to 
oppose  it  now. 

It  is  with  the  deepest  sympathy,  my  dear  friends,  that  I  an- 
nounce to  you  an  event  which  has  filled  our  college  with 
tears,  and  spread  a  gloom  over  us  all.  .  .  .  Professor 
Woods  in  a  letter  which  I  have  just  received,  says,  "At  1 
(5'clock  this  morning  our  very  dear  and  promising  friend  died. 
Our  hopes  of  his  recovery  had,  m  the  course  of  the  week, 
been  several  times  raised.  Many  prayers  have  been  offered ; 
but  the  Saviour  loved  the  dear  youth,  and  chose  thus  early  to 
call  him  home."  My  heart  aches  and  bleeds  for  you.  By 
ray  own  sorrows  I  know  that  yours  must  be  extreme.  I 
never  knew  how  to  love  him  till  since  he  left  you ;  and  for  a 
few  days  past,  I  have  felt  that  more  of  my  earthly  comfort 


APPENDIX.  2^^ 


depended  on  him  than  I  had  been  aware  of.  No  young  man 
was  ever  more  beloved.  .  .  •  He  has  not  hved  in  vam. 
He  did  not  come  to  Andover  in  vain.  Since  he  left  Newark, 
he  has  been  the  means  of  spiritual  goodtosome;  and  by  Ins 
influence  on  the  College,  has  probably  been  indirectly  tlie 
means  of  good  to  thousands.  His  parents  have  reason  to 
bless  God  that  they  were  the  means  of  bringing  a  son  mto 
the  world  to  do  so  much  good  as  he  has  done  at  Andover. 

I  am  sensible  of  the  aggravation  of  yom-  ti-ial  in  not  bemg 
able  to  see  him.  I  have  felt  this  aggravation  myself.  Dunng 
all  the  time  that  he  has  been  considered  dangerous,  I  have 
been  confined  to  my  house  by  indisposition.  I  am  still  con- 
fined,  and  cannot  attend  his  funeral  to-morrow.  It  is  a  com- 
fort to  me,  however,  to  know  that  every  thing  has  been  done 
for  him  that  man  could  do;  and  that  arrangements  are  made 
to  burv  him  with  becoming  respect.  His  dust  will  he  m  a 
strange  land;  but  mind  notthat.  It  will  not  be  lost  nor  over- 
looked.     It  will  be  gathered  and  restored  to  him,  and  to  you. 

*         *         *         *         *         *         *         =*         * 
I  know  not  that  I  was  ever  tried  so  tenderly  before.     But  we 
must  submit.    May  God  support  you  and  comfort  you  all. 
Yours  affectionately, 

E.  D.  Griffin. 

Boston,  January  7.  Sabbath  evening. 
This  hour  they  are  burying  our  dear  child!  and  as  I  can 
think  of  nothing  else,  I  set  myself  down  to  commune  with 
his  afflicted  parents  and  sisters.  No  creature  more  dear  to 
me  ever  left  this  earth.  I  am  thinking  of  his  pleasant  man- 
ners, by  which  he  soothed  us  on  our  journey,  when  we  had 
iu.t  left  at  Newark  a  great  proportion  of  our  earthly  comforts. 
*;  ^  *  *  *  I  am  thinking  of  his  attentions 
to  me  in  sickness  ;-tlie  affectionate  sympathy,  and  mature 

jndgment,  by  which  ^e  -be^^^^^^  T'^'T'''^;:^ 
all  mv  anxieties  since  I  left  you.  .,   ,     ^ 

summers  how  many  objects  will  bring  the  dear  youth  fresh 


264  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. 

to  my  thoughts !  And  if  his  body  be  permitted  to  remain 
there,  I  shall  often  with  mournful  pleasure  visit  his  grave.  Jt 
will  be  a  spot  to  me  ever  sacred  and  dear.  Perhaps  I  and  my 
family  shall  yet  sleep  with  him. 

I  have  had  some  distressing  thoughts  about  being  the 
means  of  taking  him  from  Newark,  and  I  suppose  that  you 
may  be  tempted  to  say,  if  he  had  not  left  Newark,  he  would 
not  have  died.  But,  my  friends,  it  is  all  the  appointment  of 
Heaven.  Eternal  wisdom  fixed  it  that  he  should  die  at  that 
time  and  place ;  and  that  you  and  I  should  weep  under  this 
gi'eat  loss.  And  gi-eat  it  is.  Few  parents  ever  lost  more  in 
a  single  son.  But  consider,  my  dear  friends,  how  many  com- 
forts you  liave  left  You  have  two  dear  children:  and  they 
have  two  dear  parents.  May  you  live  long  to  be  a  mutual 
comfort  to  each  other.       ##**##* 

Think  not,  my  dear  fi-iends,  that  you  have  lost  your  pains 
in  giving  your  sou  an  education.  You  have  been  fitting  him, 
I  believe,  for  more  than  a  pulpit,  for  a  higher  throne  in  Heaven. 
The  expansion  of  mind  which  his  education  has  given  him, 
will  probably  render  him  a  more  illustrious  instrument  of 
God's  glory,  and  make  him  a  more  capacious  vessel,  to  contain 
happiness,  while  the  kingdom  of  God  endures.  You  have 
not  lost  any  of  your  pains,  nor  any  of  your  prayers  for  him. 
Few  parents  have  been  so  much  honoured,  as  to  raise  up,  and 
send  such  a  son  to  assist  the  praises  of  the  assembly  of  the 
first  born.  There  I  trust  he  is!  Think  not  of  him  on  a  bed 
of  sickness,  and  in  a  land  of  strangers, — away  from  his  parents 
and  sisters.  Think  of  him  in  Mount  Zion.  There  is  all  that 
is  Lewis.  The  rest  is  mere  dust.  We  have  not  lost  him. 
He  has  only  gone  a  little  before  us.  Ten  thousand  worlds 
I  am  persuaded,  would  not  tempt  him  to  return.  There  I 
hope  we  shall  soon  find  him,  and  enjoy  him  again,  and  for- 
ever,— far  better  than  we  ever  did  in  this  world.      *       #      * 

It  was  indeed  desirable  to  keep  him  with  us  a  little  longer. 
But  I  now  perceive  that  the  days  of  God's  power  which  we 
have  seen,  were  not  so  much  intended  to  raise  up  comforts  for 


APPENDIX. 


265 


us  in  this  world,  or  to  fit  men  to  preach  the  gospel,  as  to  fit 
souls  for  that  eternal  society  to  which  we  believe  our  dear 
Lewis  has  gone.  O!  may  my  thoughts  be  more  unloosed 
from  earth,  and  be  more  steadfastly  fixed  on  that  glorious 
assembly  of  our  fathers  and  brethren,  which  has  been  in- 
creasing from  the  days  of  Adam.  There  I  doubt  not  is 
Lewis!  There  I  trust,  will  soon  be  his  parents  and  sisters, 
and  there  I  hope,  soon  to  meet  you  all  to  part  no  more  for- 
ever. Blessed  world!  no  death,  no  parting,  no  sorrow,  no 
sin !  Stay  there  dear  child !  I  would  not  entice  thee  if  I  could, 
fi-om  those  regions  of  bliss,  and  glory. 

You  will  wish  to  know  every  thing  about  him,  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  life.  When  I  saw  him  last  he  was  well  and  happy. 
He  had  engaged  as  one  of  the  preceptors  m  the  Academy ; 
and  came  to  me,  (then  at  Andover,)  to  apologize  for  engaging 
without  waiting  to  consult  me.  He  obsened  with  his  usual 
loveliness,  that  he  had  never  been  out  of  his  mother's  lap, 
and  thought  he  ought  to  do  something  to  help  support  the  ex- 
penses of  his  education.  As  he  received  a  liberal  compen- 
sation, I  was  not  displeased.  I  left  him  with  a  charge  to 
come  to  Boston  on  the  day  of  dedicating  our  new  church, 
which  is  to  take  place  next  Wednesday.  We  have  been 
looking  forward  to  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  then ;  but  alas! 

To   resume  the  history,— he    continued  well  till   three 

weeks  ago  last  Thursday.  And  I  know  of  nothing  at  An- 
dover that  occasioned  his  sickness.  He  appeared,  at  first,  to 
have  a  slow  fever,  but  felt  no  alarm.  He  would  not  consent 
to  their  alarming  you :  and  they  did  not  think  proper  to  alarm 
me.  Indeed,  they  were  not  alarmed  themselves,  until  the 
Thursday  or  Friday  of  week  before  last.  Several  who  rank 
among  the  best  physicians  in  the  state  were  called  to  his  as- 
sistance as  soon  as  danger  was  apprehended;  and  one  to 
whose  children  Lewis  had  been,  as  I  trust,  the  means  of 
spiritual  benefit,  attended  on  him  from  the  beginning.  He  is 
a  pious,  careful,  and  skilful  physician.  Every  thing  was  done 
for  him  that  could  be  done.     His  mind  was  very  happy  and 


266  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. 

resigned,  until  he  lost  the  use  of  his  reason.  He  then  had 
the  ordinary  wildness  and  restlesness  of  such  a  state ; — and 
so  far  as  I  am  informed,  died  in  that  condition.  Whatever 
else  I  can  learn  that  I  judge  will  he  interesting  to  you,  you 
shall  hear.  All  that  I  can  do  more  is  to  take  care  of  the 
books,  and  clothing,  which  the  dear  youth  left  hehind,  and 
settle  his  accounts.  All  this  God  willing,  I  will  do,  and  give 
you  seasonable  information.  Mrs.  Griffin  weeps  almost  all 
the  time.  She  saj'S,  she  feels  more  for  the  family,  than  even 
for  the  loss  of  him.  She  sends  her  kindest  love  and  sympathy 
to  you  all.  I  join  with  her  in  the  tenderest  condolence,  and 
in  prayers  that  God  may  abundantly  support  you. 

Your  afflicted  and  affectionate  friend, 

E.  D.  Griffin. 


Extracts  of  a  letter  from  the  Rev.  L.  Woods,  to  the  parents  of 
Lewis  Le  Conte  Congar. 
Andover,  January  21,  1810.     Sabbath  evening. 
My  respected  and  beloved  friends  : 

It  was  my  intention  to  write  to  you  immediately  after  the 
decease  of  your  dear  son ;  but  sickness  in  my  family  pre- 
vented. I  was  the  less  anxious  about  writing,  because  I  knew 
you  would  receive  letters  from  several  here,  who  have  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  you,  and  are  therefore  better  qualified  to 
address  you  than  I  am.  But  I  cannot,  even  at  this  late  period, 
deny  myself  the  mournful  satisfaction  of  writing  to  you, 
though  I  must  write  in  haste.  Your  dear  Lewis  was  chiefly 
employed  in  those  studies  which  belong  to  my  department 
I  had  thus  the  bestopportunity  of  being  intimately  acquainted 
with  him.  And  I  cannot  help  saying  that  I  conceive  you 
highly  privileged  in  being  the  parents  of  such  a  son.  He 
was  one  in  whom  you  could  rejoice  while  he  lived,  and  when 
he  died.  Yes,  mourning  parents,  your  joy  must  rise  above 
your  sorrow.  I  know  you  could  not  have  been  more  tenderly 
afflicted.    My  heart  has  been  ready  to  melt  when  viewing 


APPENDIX.  267 

your  bereavement  and  all  the  circumstances  attending  it.  But 
to  think  of  a  beloved  child,  who  sleeps  in  Jesus;  who  lived 
long  enough  to  be  prepared  for  a  better  life;  long  enough 
to  give  the  most  amiable  proof  of  being  born  again,  and 
yet  not  long  enough  to  know  many  of  the  troubles  of 
life,  or  many  of  the  trials  and  difficulties  of  religion ;  se- 
parated from  sin  and  sorrow ;  gone  from  affectionate  earthly 
parents,  to  one  infinitely  more  affectionate  in  Heaven ;  gone 
from  the  darkness  and  distance  of  this  world,  to  the  light  and 
joy  of  paradise.  To  think  of  this,  must  kindle  raptures  in 
your  hearts  in  the  midst  of  your  grief.  The  early  death  of 
your  Son,  was  doubtless  a  mark  of  God's  peculiar  love. 
Christ  desired  and  prayed,  that  all  his  people  might  be  with 
him.  It  was,  I  trust,  because  he  loved  your  son  with  a  peculiar 
love,  that  he  chose  so  soon  to  call  him  home.  It  is  a  great 
loss  to  you,  and  to  me,  and  to  the  churches,  but  it  is  a  greater 
gain  to  him,  and  gain  also  to  the  church  in  Heaven.  His  use- 
fulness is  not  diminished,  but  increased  by  his  removal.  He 
began  to  do  good  here.  But  he  is  gone  to  a  higher  sphere  of 
action  and  enjoyment.  Thoughts  like  these  are  not  new  to  you. 
I  doubt  not  you  have  had  much  comfort  in  such  reflections. 
If  so,  you  will  delight  to  repeat  them  often. 

Your  son  was  an  ornament  to  this  Seminary.     His  genius 
was  distinguished,  and  his  manners  uncommonly  amiable. 

But  his  work  was  done,  and  the  glorious  Redeemer  chose  to 
call  him  home  to  himself.     Sorrowing  parents,  I  mourn  with 

•«T|^II  ^  Hv^  ■9F^  tF  tF  ^  ^  ^  ^ 

Our  beloved  Lewis  is  no  more.  It  is  our  duty  to  be  still,  and 
say  with  all  the  heart,  "  the  will  of  the  Lord  be  done."  How 
wonderful,  how  mysterious  God's  ways!  He  sent  your  son  to 
this  place,  that  he  might  be  a  blessing  to  this  infant  seminary, 
and  to  this  people  a  little  while,  and  then  die.  He  was  useful 
by  his  life,  and  we  hope  will  be  useful  by  his  death.     *     * 

I  trust  my  dear  friends,  that  you  know  the  grace  of  God, 
and  have  learned  the  duty  and  experienced  the  comforts  of 


268  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. 

submission.  May  he  teach  you  to  sorrow  in  a  godly  manner. 
Trust  in  Jiim,  cast  all  your  cares  on  him,  and  lie  will  sustain 
you.  He  will  never  leave  you,  never,  never  forsake  you.  The 
Lord  cause  his  face  to  shine  upon  you,  and  upon  your  sur- 
viving children.  Accept  with  them  my  most  tender  con- 
dolence, and  my  devout  wishes  for  your  support  and  consola- 
tion. 

I  am  your  sincere  friend  and  servant, 

Leonard  Woods. 


The  particular  state  of  Mr.  Cougar's  mind  during  his  sickness,  is 
thus  detailed  hy  a  friend,  ivho  was  with  him  till  his  death. 

A  long  time  did  not  elapse  between  the  time  when  he  was 
first  considered  dangerous,  and  the  time  when  he  began  to 
lose  his  reason — his  words  tlierefore,  which  I  wrote  down  at 

the  time,  were  few. During  the  first  part  of  his  sickness, 

his  principal  concern  was, — lest  he  should  be  impatient — and 
his  principal  request,  that  his  friends  would  pray  for  his  re- 
covery, but  especially  that  God  would  give  him  patience  and 
resignation,  that  he  might  not  cast  a  reproach  on  the  cause. 
He  would  say,  "  Since  I  am  so  unable  to  pray,  you  must  pray 
for  me,  and  request  my  friends  also."  His  desire  God  was 
pleased  to  grant  in  a  very  distinguishing  manner.  We  found 
it  difficult  to  learn  his  feelings,  because  he  would  not  com- 
plain. The  fij-st  thing  which  indicated  that  he  expected  to 
die,  was  the  following  request  to  me.  "  You  know  the  sermon 
I  have  been  writing  on  trusting  in  God.  Though  it  is  in  a 
veiy  unfinished  and  imperfect  state,  I  wish  you  would  ask 
Doctor  Griffin  to  arrange  it,  and  send  it  home  to  my  parents; 
it  may  be  some  comfort  to  them. 

On  Friday  night,  a  week  before  he  died,  being  asked 
whether  he  wished  to  see  company,  he  replied,  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  some  whose  faces  will  refresh  me,  though  I  can 
not  talk  to  them.  Saturday  was  his  last  rational  day,  and  his 
happiest  day.     In  the  morning  he  said  to  me,  I  think  it  would 


APPENDIX.  269 

be  a  wonder  if  I  should  get  well  of  this  fever ;  don't  you 
think  so?  I  replied,  do  you  think  much  of  dying?  He 
answered,  some.  How  does  it  appear  to  you  ?  Very  solemn : 
I  have  lived  a  very  unprofitable  life  to  die  upon ;  I  do  not 
know  but  God  intends  to  take  me  away.  If  so  I  hope  he 
will  prepare  me.  It  is  a  great  tiling  to  change  worlds,  and 
go  into  the  immediate  presence  of  God.  But  a  happy  thing 
— happy  for  those  who  have  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  who 

will  enter  into  his  eternal Oh  how  precious  is  Christ !     I 

think  I  should  be  glad  to  spend  an  eternity  with  him.  I  think 
I  long  for  the  enjoyments  of  Heaven — for  the  purity  and 
holiness  of  the  Heavenly  state.  I  am  a  poor  worthless  crea- 
ture :  but  I  hope  that  Christ  will  support  me,  and  take  me  to 
himself.  If  I  may  sit  in  the  lowest  place  at  his  feet  and  gaze 
upon  the  beauties  of  his  face,  it  is  enough  for  me.  When 
the  light  of  Heaven  first  broke  upon  my  soul,  I  think  I  took 
Christ  for  my  all  in  all ;  and  now  he  must  be  all  in  all.  I 
think  I  do  love  Christ.     (Saturday  fore-noon)  I  said  to  hun, 

you  feel  weak,  dont  you?     Yes,  but   Christ  is and   I 

commit  myself  to  him — this  glorious  exchange — if  it  were 
not  for  these  truths  I  must  sink  in  despair.  About  noon  he 
said,  I  have  enjoyed  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel  very  much 
to  day — I  feel  happy  that  I  am  in  the  hands  of  God.  One  of 
his  friends  said  to  him,  can  you  testify  to  the  preciousness  of 
Christ?  Yes  I  can.  In  the  evening  I  said  to  him,  how  does 
your  mind  feel  now?  I  feel  composed  and  happy.  I  have 
given  myself  up  to  God  to  carry  me  through  this  fever  just  as 
He  pleases.  Late  on  Saturday  evening  he  asked  me  which  is 
the  sweetest  part  of  the  Bible  ?  He  answered,  there  are  many- 
sweet  parts.  There  is  a  grand  description  of  the  character 
of  God — the  Lord,  the  Lord  God  Almighty — no  how  is  it? 
The  passage  was  then  repeated  to  him.  He  replied,  the 
character  of  God  is  amiable,  excellent,  all  perfection.  On 
Sunday  morning,  he  said,  it  seems  to  refresh  me  to  see  the 
morning  once  more.  One  of  his  friends  standing  by  his  bed, 
he  said  to  him,  brother,  I  am  a  little  composed — I  have  views 

24 


270  DUTY    OF    SUBMISSION. APPENDIX. 

of  Chi'ist  that  are  affecting.  Afterwards  in  a  broken  manner, 
he  dictated  a  note  for  pubhc  prayers,  in  which  he  particularly 
requested  prayers  for  the  presence  of  God  and  for  support 
thi-ough  his  great  ti-ial.  After  this  his  reason  gradually  failed 
till  he  was  entu-ely  deranged,  in  which  state  he  continued, 
except  at  one  small  interval,  in  which  he  expressed  a  solici- 
tude about  my  health,  and  repeated  his  request  respecting  the 
sermon  before  mentioned.  His  death  was  apparently  easy. 
He  appeared  to  fall  into  a  sleep  from  which  we  could  not 
awake  him.  O  my  brother,  my  brother,  I  could  almost  say, 
would  to  God  I  had  died  for  thee. 

Yours  &c., 

A.  JuDsoN,  Jr. 


SERMON  XV.^ 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  PAUL  THE  SPIRIT  OF  MISSIONS. 


EPHESIANS  III.,  8. 

"  JJjito  me,  who  am  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints,  is  this  grace 
given,  that  I  should  preach  among  the  Gentiles  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ." 

St.  Paul  was  equally  remarkable  for  the  depth  of  his 
humility,  and  for  the  ardour  of  his  zeal.  From  the 
first  moment  of  his  conversion  to  the  latest  period  of  his 
life,  he  seems  never  to  have  forgotten  that  he  had  been 
a  persecutor  of  the  name  of  Jesus.  The  remembrance 
of  his  former  character  laid  him  low  before  God,  while 
it  inspired  him  with  an  earnest  desire  to  live  worthy  of 
the  grace  by  which  he  had  been  distinguished.  Having 
himself  tasted  the  riches  of  God's  mercy  in  the  pardon 
of  sin  and  the  hopes  of  eternal  life,  he  wished  to  be  the 
joyful  minister  of  the  same  grace  to  others,  and  to  carry 
the  glad  tidings  of  peace  and  salvation  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth. 

Fitted  to  this  great  work  by  many  natural  and  spirit- 
ual qualifications,  he   engaged  in   it   with  an  ardour, 

*  A  sermon  preached  at  New  Haven,  Conn.,  before  the  Ameri- 
can Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions,  at  their  annual 
meeting,  Sept.  15,  1814. 


272  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

which  no  watchings  and  fastings,  no  labours  and  suffer- 
ings could  overcome.  From  Jerusalem  he  passed  into 
Syria,  thence  into  Arabia — into  Asia  Minor — into 
Macedonia  and  other  parts  of  Greece.  Widely  ex- 
tended regions  of  the  globe  were  traversed  by  him, 
sometimes  on  foot,  sometimes  alone,  while  continually 
exposed  to  the  severest  hardships  and  perils.  Wherever 
he  went,  he  was  deemed  an  enthusiast,  or  a  mad-man, 
a  disturber  of  the  public  peace,  an  enemy  to  mankind. 
"  But  none  of  these  things  moved  him,  neither  counted 
he  his  life  dear  unto  himself,  if  he  might  finish  his  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  he  had  received  of 
the  Lord  Jesus."  He  felt  the  importance  of  his  mission, 
and  the  grandeur  of  his  own  destiny.  He  bore  about 
the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus;  he  carried  with  him  the 
treasures  of  everlasting  wisdom  and  mercy.  Despising 
the  gains  and  the  glory  of  the  present  world,  his  heart 
w^as  strongly  fixed  on  procuring  for  himself  and  for 
others  the  blessings  of  eternal  life. 

God  had  especially  designated  him  to  this  work,  and 
declared  him  a  "  chosen  vessel  to  bear  his  name  before 
the  Gentiles;"  and  though  his  labours  were  abundant, 
and  his  successes  unrivalled;  though  multitudes  in 
various  portions  of  the  heathen  world  were  brought  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth  through  his  instrumentality; 
still  his  humility  did  not  forsake  him;  he  could  retrace 
the  labours  and  sufferings  of  a  glorious  life,  without 
indulging  in  the  emotions  of  pride  and  vanity;  he  could 
look  upon  the  hundreds  and  thousands  he  had  converted 
from  paganism,  and  yet  say,  "  Unto  me,  w^ho  am  less 
than  the  least  of  all  saints,  is  this  grace  given,  that  I 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  273 

should  preach  among  the  Gentiles  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ." 

He  did  not  doubt  of  his  being  a  saint:  but  he  felt 
himself  to  be  the  least  of  all  saints  because  he  had  per- 
secuted the  church  of  God,  and  because  he  still  lived  so 
far  beneath  his  privileges  and  obligations.  That  he 
should  be  called  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen, 
he  considered  as  an  instance  of  amazing  condescension 
and  mercy;  and  to  this  great  and  good  work  he  made 
a  cheerful  and  unreserved  consecration  of  all  his  powers. 

Where,  my  brethren,  can  we  find  an  example  more 
worthy  of  our  imitation.?  Where  can  we  learn  so 
much  of  that  spirit,  which  ought  to  breathe  in  all  our 
hearts,  while  we  are  endeavoring  to  spread  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ  in  the  pagan  world?  We  behold  in 
this  man  a  missionary  indeed;  one  who  is  borne  above 
those  worldly  and  selfish  interests,  which  too  often 
contract  our  minds  and  paralyze  our  exertions.  We 
see  him  engaging  in  a  service  the  most  noble,  the  most 
arduous,  and  continuing  in  it  through  all  diflSculties  and 
discouragements,  with  unabated  resolution  to  the  end. 
How  happy  would  it  be  for  us,  could  we  light  our  fires 
at  his  altar,  and  feel  something  of  that  pure  and 
heavenly  flame  which  burned  in  his  bosom. 

It  is  intended  in  the  following  discourse  to  present 
to  you  more  distinctly,  some  of  the  principles  and  mo- 
tives which  directed  and  animated  the  apostle  in  carry- 
ing the  gospel  to  the  heathen  world,  and  which  ought 
no  less  powerfully  to  direct  and  animate  us. 

I.  I  begin  by  observing,  that  the  apostle  entered 
upon  this  service  with  a  deep  impression  of  the  infinite 
24* 


274  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

worth  of  the  gospel.     It  was  to  him  "  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ." 

Time  was  when  he  was  blind  to  the  glory  of  a  cru- 
cified Saviour,  when  Christ  appeared  to  him  as  to  his 
countrymen  generally,  "  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground,"" 
in  which  was  to  be  seen  neither  "  form  nor  comeliness." 
Nay,  he  felt  a  deep  hostility  to  Christ,  and  persecuted 
his  followers  to  prison  and  to  death.  But  the  Lord, 
even  Jesus,  had  met  him  in  the  way,  and  had  spoken 
to  him  with  a  voice  of  power  and  majesty,  which  he 
could  no  longer  resist.  A  glorious  light  from  Heaven 
shone  round  about  him,  the  emblem  of  a  more  glorious 
light,  which  shone  into  his  soul,  and  which  forever 
darkened  the  lustre  of  all  terrestrial  things.  Now  the 
gospel  of  Christ  appeared  to  him  the  "  glorious  gospel 
of  the  blessed  God" — full  of  wisdom — full  of  mercy — 
full  of  power — forming  a  scheme  in  which  all  the 
divine  attributes  harmonize  and  shine  forth  with  unut- 
terable splendour.  His  soul  bows  before  the  mysteries 
of  a  God  incarnate — before  the  wonders  of  a  Saviour 
crucified  and  raised  again  from  the  dead.  The  cross  of 
Christ,  a  stumbling  block  before,  is  henceforth  his  boast 
and  his  glory.  There  his  own  guilty  soul  has  found 
relief — there  his  foulest  stains  have  been  washed  away. 
Was  it  surprising  that  his  heart  should  be  absorbed  and 
even  transported  with  such  an  object,  and  that  he  should 
feel  it  to  be  the  glory  of  his  life  to  unfold  its  riches  and 
its  beauty  among  the  Gentiles?  Especially  when  you 
reflect  that  he  considered  the  know^ledge  of  Christ  and 
his  cross  as  essential  to  their  salvation.  He  did  not 
believe  that   men  were  thronging  the  way  to  Heaven 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   MISSIONS.  276 

involved  in  the  ignorance  and  stained  with  the  crimes 
of  idolatry.  He  looked  upon  the  whole  heathen  w^orld, 
as  without  God,  and  without  hope;  sitting  in  the  region 
of  darkness  and  shadow  of  death;  and  he  declares  the 
object  of  his  ministry  to  be  "  to  turn  many  from  dark- 
ness to  light,  and  from  the  powder  of  Satan  unto  God." 
Here  was  the  spring  of  his  zeal  in  preaching  the  gospel, 
in  regions  where  "  Christ  was  not  known." 

If  he  had  regarded  the  gospel  merely  in  the  light  of 
a  good  religion,  and  on  the  whole  perhaps  the  best 
religion  in  the  world,  you  would  not  have  seen  him 
braving  all  dangers,  and  encountering  every  hardship, 
to  spread  the  knowledge  of  its  sacred  truths  among  the 
nations.  He  would  have  left  them,  as  many  boasting 
philanthropists  have  done,  to  enjoy  their  superstitions, 
in  the  fond  hope  that  they  might  find  their  way  to  the 
abodes  of  future  happiness,  though  undirected  by  the 
light  of  the  gospel.  But  the  fact  with  him  w^as  quite 
otherwise.  He  considered  the  gospel  as  an  indispensa- 
ble mean  of  eternal  life — that  they  who  heard  it  and 
believed,  would  be  saved,  and  that  they  who  heard  it 
not,  or  did  not  believe,  would  inevitably  perish. 

Such  impressions  of  the  gospel  prepared  him  to  act 
as  a  missionary  of  the  cross,  and  laid  a  foundation  for 
his  persevering  endeavours  to  spread  the  knowledge  of 
divine  truth  in  every  part  of  the  world. 

Our  impressions  of  the  gospel  must  be  of  the  same 
character,  if  we  would  embark  in  the  cause  of  missions 
with  any  hope  of  success.  If  we  have  yet  to  learn,  that 
the  gospel  of  Christ  is  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed 
God,  exhibiting  a  bright  assemblage  of  all  the  divine 


276  THE   SPIRIT   OF   PAUL 

perfections,  and  containing  in  its  provisions  all  that  is 
requisite  to  make  us  happy  through  time  and  eternity, 
we  know  nothing  yet  as  we  ought  to  know,  and  are  not 
prepared  so  much  as  to  begin  our  work.  May  I  not 
say  indeed,  that  unless  we  are  firmly  persuaded  that  the 
gospel  is  the  only  appointed  means  of  salvation,  and 
that  men  will  perish  who  die  without  its  light,  we  shall 
never  do  any  thing  in  the  cause  of  missions  worthy  of 
its  object.  It  is  a  question,  therefore,  which  deeply 
concerns  us  all.  Have  we  right  impressions  of  the  gos- 
pel? Does  it  appear  to  us,  as  it  did  to  St.  Paul,  to  be 
the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ?  Has  the  glory  of 
this  world  faded  away  in  comparison  of  its  excellence? 
And  can  we  say  with  the  apostle,  that  we  count  all 
things  as  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord?"  Then  shall  we  compassionate 
the  heathen,  who  are  without  this  knowledge;  and  be 
ready  to  perform  any  labours,  or  to  make  any  sacrifices, 
w^hich  are  necessary,  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
among  them. 

This  will  lead  me  to  remark, 

II.  That  the  apostle  entered  upon  the  great  work  of 
evangelizing  the  heathen,  with  the  strongest  convic- 
tions of  duty.  He  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  called  of 
God  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  Gentiles.  The  divine 
Saviour  had  "  stood  by  him  in  a  vision  at  Jerusalem, 
and  bid  him  depart  out  of  Judea,  because  they  w^ould  not 
receive  his  testimony,  saying,  I  will  send  thee  far  hence 
among  the  Gentiles."  His  conviction  was  complete, 
his  obedience  prompt  and  exemplary.  He  w  aited  for 
no   human   counsels — for   no   combination  of  human 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  277 

strength.  "  As  soon  as  it  pleased  God  to  reveal  his 
Son  in  him,  that  he  should  preach  him  among  the 
heathen,  immediately  he  conferred  not  with  flesh  and 
blood;  neither  went  he  up  to  Jerusalem  to  them  that 
were  apostles  before  him;  but  he  went  into  Arabia  and 
returned  again  to  Damascus."  The  single  circum- 
stance, that  Jesus  Christ  had  commanded,  was  enough. 
This  was  paramount  to  every  other  consideration. 
Mountains  of  difficulty  were  instantly  removed,  or  to- 
tally disregarded.  Armed  only  with  the  w^ord  of  truth 
and  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  sallied  forth  into 
the  heathen  world,  prepaied  to  contend  with  ignorance, 
with  superstition,  with  the  pride  of  philosophy,  the 
madness  of  ambition,  the  hatred  and  violence  of  lust: 
in  short,  with  all  that  a  corrupted  world,  instigated  by 
the  subtlety  and  malice  of  Satan,  could  array  against 
him.  We  do  not  propose  him  as  our  example,  in  all 
these  respects,  and  without  any  limitation;  for  as  his 
commission  w^as  extraordinary  and  special,  so  also  w^as 
the  path  in  which  he  w^as  led.  But  we  desire  you  to 
bear  it  distinctly  in  mind,  that  it  was  under  a  strong 
conviction  of  duty,  that  he  commenced  his  arduous 
work;  and  that  it  was  this,  which  kept  him  firm  and 
steady  in  his  course,  while  at  all  times  it  supplied  him 
with  the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience,  and  enabled 
him  cheerfully  to  commit  the  event  of  his  labours  to 
God. 

There  is  at  least  an  equal  necessity  that  we  should 
act  under  a  strong  sense  of  duty,  in  attempting  to  es- 
tablish the  gospel  among  the  heathen.  For  if  we  lack 
conviction  on  this  point,  our  exertions  will  be  feeble. 


278  THE    SPIRIT   OF   PAUL 

unsteady,  and  probably  of  short  duration.  How,  then, 
let  me  ask,  ought  this  question  to  be  viewed  by  us? 
Is  there  any  room  to  doubt  whether  we  are  called  to 
bear  a  part  in  the  attempts,  which  are  now  making 
among  Christian  nations,  to  send  the  gospel  to  the  be- 
nighted pagans? 

We  know  it  was  the  command  of  the  risen  Saviour 
to  his  disciples,  "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature;"  but  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  it  is  manifest  that  this  command 
could  not  be  restricted  to  the  disciples  to  whom  it  was 
first  given.  Here  was  a  work  too  mighty  to  be  per- 
formed by  a  few  persons  in  one  generation.  We  must 
consider  the  command  as  resting  upon  the  apostles  and 
upon  their  successors  in  the  ministry  of  reconciliation, 
as  is  farther  evident  from  the  promise  annexed  to  it, 
"Lo!  I  am  with  you  always,  even  to  the  end  of  the 
world;"  a  promise  reaching  to  every  age  of  the  church, 
and  showing  us  that  the  command,  which  is  necessa- 
rily coextensive  with  the  promise,  will  never  cease  to  be 
obligatory,  until  all  men  are  brought  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth,  or  until  the  ministry  of  reconciliation  ends. 

Besides,  is  it  not  our  duty  to  pray  for  the  salvation 
of  all  men,  and  that  because  "  God  will  have  all  men 
to  be  saved  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth?" 
But  what  sincerity  can  there  be  in  our  prayers,  where 
there  is  not  a  corresponding  endeavour  to  promote  the 
object  which  they  contemplate?  Can  any  man  de- 
ceive himself  with  the  idea,  that  he  longs  for  the  sal- 
vation of  the  heathen,  and  prays  acceptably  for  that 
object,  while  he  is  unwilling  to  put  his  hands  to  the 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  279 

work  of  missions,  and  while  perhaps  he  cheapens  the 
labours  of  those  who  do? 

Where,  indeed,  is  the  great  law  of  benevolence, 
which  binds  us  to  regard  the  interests  of  our  fellow 
men  no  less  than  our  own;  and  their  spiritual  and  im- 
mortal interests  certainly  as  well  as  their  temporal.  If 
he  is  chargeable  with  the  want  of  Christian  charity 
w^ho  "  seeth  his  brother  have  need  of  this  w^orld's 
goods,  and  shutteth  up  the  bowels  of  his  compassion 
from  him,"  what  shall  be  said  of  one,  who  can  look 
upon  the  perishing  heathen,  lying  under  a  load  of  guilt 
and  hastening,  without  the  knowledge  or  benefit  of  a 
Saviour,  to  the  retributions  of  eternity,  and  yet  feel  no 
generous  sentiment  glowing  in  his  bosom;  no  desire 
to  carry  the  precious  light  of  salvation  to  their  benight- 
ed land? 

"  True,  it  may  be  said;  but  then  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten, that  though  the  call  for  our  benevolence  is  great, 
yet  the  field  for  our  active  laboui^s  is  limited.  We 
must  not  desert  our  own  churches  to  carry  the  gospel  to 
heathen  lands — w^e  must  not  neglect  our  own  flesh  and 
blood,  the  people  in  our  new  and  scattered  settlements, 
for  the  sake  of  transporting  missionaries  to  distant 
shores;  where,  before  any  reasonable  hopes  of  success 
can  be  entertained,  new  languages  must  be  acquired, 
long  and  inveterate  habits  overcome." 

W^e  are  not  backward,  my  brethren,  to  admit,  that 
the  call  for  domestic  missions  is  loud  and  solemn.  There 
are  thousands  in  our  frontier  settlements,  as  well  as  in 
the  more  interior  parts  of  our  country,  whose  case  de- 
mands our  sympathy  and  exertion;  not  to  mention  the 


280  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

unhappy  and  degraded  people  of  colour  in  the  southern 
states,  amounting  to  scarcely  less  than  a  million  of 
souls,  and  the  numerous  and  wretched  tribes  of  Indians 
upon  our  borders.  To  all  these  it  is  our  duty  to  turn 
our  attention,  and  to  feel  towards  them  that  compassion 
which  Jesus  felt  for  the  multitudes  in  Judea,  who  were 
as  sheep  scattered  abroad  having  no  shepherd.  But  is 
this  the  whole  of  our  duty?  May  we  not,  and  ought 
we  not,  to  engage  in  foreign  missions  also,  and  send 
the  gospel  to  the  benighted  regions  of  Asia  and  Africa, 
and  to  the  islands  of  the  Southern  ocean?  As  to  our 
own  people,  though  destitute,  they  are  not  absolutely 
without  the  word  of  life,  and  the  means  of  salvation. 
They  enjoy  a  kind  of  twilight,  by  means  of  the  scatter- 
ed beams  of  the  Son  of  righteousness,  which  still  fall 
upon  them.  But  with  the  heathen  it  is  total  darkness. 
There  is  no  day  spring  from  on  high  to  visit  them;  no 
feeble  ray  from  any  distant  star  to  shine  upon  their 
dwellings.  An  awful  night  of  gloom  and  terrour  sur- 
rounds them.  Satan,  the  prince  of  darkness,  holds 
there  a  wide  and  dreadful  reign.  Thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  are  yearly  offered  up  as  polluted  and 
bloody  victims  upon  his  altars,  while  millions  added  to 
millions  are  enslaved  by  the  false  religions  and  cruel 
rites  of  this  destroyer  of  souls.  Behold  I  from  the 
southern  shores  of  India  and  Africa  to  the  northern 
boundaries  of  Tartary — from  the  eastern  to  the  west- 
ern limits  of  Asia — and  what  will  you  see,  but  one 
vast  assemblage  of  ignorance  and  superstition,  casting 
a  thick  and  portentous  darkness  over  these  widely  ex- 
tended regions!     With  the  exception  of  a  small  por- 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  281 

tion  of  Christians,  making  less  perhaps  than  one  fifti- 
eth part  of  the  whole,  all,  all  are  without  hope  and 
without  God  in  the  world.  What  a  vast  multitude  of 
souls  crowding  their  way,  generation  after  generation, 
down  to  the  abodes  of  despair!  What  a  deep  and 
broad  river  do  they  make  as  they  pass  along  to  the 
ocean  of  eternity  into  which  they  fall — never  to  return. 
Where  is  thy  philanthropy,  O  Christians?  Where  thy 
charity,  kindled  at  the  cross  of  a  dying  Saviour? 
Canst  thou  sleep  quietly  over  the  destiny  of  millions 
thus  sunk  in  darkness  and  sin,  w^ithout  one  effort  to 
rescue  them  from  the  horrours  of  their  condition,  with- 
out so  much  as  visiting  their  borders  with  the  word  of 
God,  the  light  of  life  in  thy  hands? 

Besides,  have  we  not  apostolic  example  for  the  course 
we  recommend?  Did  the  first  ministers  of  Jesus  wait 
till  they  had  converted  all  their  own  countrymen,  be- 
fore they  ventui'ed  abroad  among  the  heathen?  And 
when  they  went  to  one  nation,  did  they  confine  their 
labours  to  them,  till  all  were  brought  to  the  obedience 
of  faith?  Did  they  not  rather  go  from  city  to  city, 
and  from  one  nation  and  kingdom  to  another,  till  they 
had  planted  the  gospel  in  every  part  of  the  known 
w^orld?  This  was  St.  Paul's  plan,  most  certainly. 
And  why  should  not  this  course  be  thought  reasonable. 
An  earnest  desire  to  send  the  gospel  abroad  will  kin- 
dle a  purer  and  more  ardent  zeal  for  its  propagation  at 
home.  "  Religion  is  that  kind  of  commodity,  that  the 
more  you  impart  of  it  to  others,  the  more  you  have 
left  behind."  Nor  is  this  difficult  to  comprehend. 
The  ;^ea],  awakened  by  so  glowing  an  object  as  a  fo- 
25 


282  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

reign  mission,  cannot  fail  to  diffuse  itself  through  many 
hearts,  and  be  reproduced  in  the  concern  which  it  ex- 
cites for  the  promotion  of  religion  generally.  It  pre- 
sents an  interest,  which  is  vast:  it  forms  characters  in 
a  high  degree  dignified  and  engaging. 

I  appeal  to  the  noble  and  apostolic  spirit  of  those 
who  have  gone  from  our  shores  to  carry  the  gospel  to 
India,  and  whose  recent  communications  sufficiently 
evince  that  neither  their  zeal  nor  their  firmness  have 
been  diminished,  by  the  many  trials  they  have  endured. 
I  appeal  to  the  memoirs  of  one  who  breathed  out  her 
life  on  a  distant  shore,  in  the  very  morning  of  her  days, 
and  upon  the  threshhcld  of  her  mission.  She  did  not 
regret  that  she  had  left  all  for  Christ,  and  that  she  had 
testified  her  love  to  the  heathen  rather  by  what  she  de- 
sired, than  by  what  she  was  permitted  to  accomplish. 
Her  life  and  death,  strongly  marked  as  they  were  by 
sentiments  of  the  most  exalted  piety,  will  excite  more 
Christian  feeling,  and  be  productive  of  more  devout 
and  ardent  prayer  for  the  extension  of  the  Redeemer's 
kingdom,  than  the  lives  and  deaths  of  a  hundred  ordi- 
nary Christians.  Besides  all  this,  a  foreign  mission 
las  a  powerful  tendency  to  narrow  the  differences  and 
destroy  the  little  jealousies,  which  exist  among  Christ- 
ians, while  it  enables  them  to  act  with  union  and 
tigour  in  one  great  cause. 

What  has  been  the  fact  among  those  Christians, 
who  have  embarked  in  foreign  missions,  both  in  Europe 
and  America.  Have  they  not  been  the  friends  of  do- 
mestic missions  also?  So  far  as  the  knowledge  of  the 
speaker  has  extended,  the  more  liberally  they  have 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  283 

communicated  to  the  wants  of  the  heathen  the  more 
generous  have  been  their  contributions,  and  the 
more  zealous  their  labours,  to  promote  religion  in  their 
own  land.  The  truth  is,  those  men  who  are  for  sending 
the  gospel  to  the  miserable  inhabitants  of  Asia  and 
Africa,  at  almost  any  hazard  and  expense,  think  a 
great  deal  of  religion.  It  is  to  them  "  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation."  They  regard  it  as  the  riches  of 
the  world,  and  their  own  eternal  inheritance.  They 
partake  of  the  spirit  of  the  primitive  disciples,  who 
sold  their  worldly  possessions,  that  they  might  the 
more  effectually  communicate  to  the  wants  of  the  ne- 
cessitous, and  help  forward  the  rising  cause  of  Christ- 
ianity. Can  it  be  a  matter  of  doubt,  in  these  circum- 
stances, whether  we  ought  to  cast  in  our  lot  with  them, 
and  do  what  in  us  lies,  to  spread  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  among  the  benighted  nations?  I  see  not  how 
we  can  forbear,  without  being  chargeable  with  the 
blood  of  the  poor  heathen  who  shall  perish  through 
our  neglect.  They  are  suffering  an  awful  famine,  not 
of  bread  nor  of  water,  but  of  the  word  of  the  living 
God;  and  if  we  will  neither  compassionate  nor  relieve 
them,  how  can  we  avoid  the  guilt  of  their  blood?  A 
thorough  conviction  of  this  fact  would  lay  hold  of  the 
strongest  principles  of  action,  and  carry  us  resolutely 
and  steadily  forward  in  the  great  w^ork  which  we  have 
begun. 

III.  I  remark  further,  that  the  apostle  engaged  in 
the  design  of  propagating  the  gospel  among  the  heathen, 
not  merely  from  a  sense  of  duty,  acting  under  the 
command  of  Jesus  Christ  his  rightful  Lord  and  sove- 


284 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 


reign,  but  as  an  unspeakable  honour  and  privilege. 
"  Unto  me  who  am  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints  is 
this  grace  given,  that  I  should  preach  among  the 
Gentiles  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ."  He  felt 
himself  exalted  by  the  office,  which  he  sustained  as  a 
preacher  among  the  heathen,  his  preeminent  talents 
and  gifts  notwithstanding.  It  never  entered  his  heart 
that  his  uncommon  powers  of  mind,  and  his  extensive 
acquaintance  with  human  science,  placed  him  beyond 
the  humble  occupation  of  a  missionary  to  the  pagans. 
This  is  the  more  remarkable,  when  you  look  at  the 
circumstances  under  which  his  ministry  was  exercised. 
What  was  his  ministry,  brethren!  Not  like  that 
w^hich  falls  to  many  of  the  ambassadors  of  peace  in 
later  times,  where  every  desire  is  anticipated — where 
honour  instead  of  reproach  is  the  reward  of  talents 
and  virtue.  His  was  a  ministry  of  suffering  and  want, 
of  shame  and  dishonour.  He  was  called  to  go  through 
evil  report  as  well  as  good  report;  to  be  held  as  a  de- 
ceiver and  impostor  w^hile  he  was  honestly  labouring 
for  the  best  interests  of  mankind.  He  could  tell  of 
journeyings  often,  of  fastings  often,  of  hungering  and 
thirst,  of  cold  and  nakedness;  of  perils  in  the  wilder- 
ness, of  perils  in  the  sea — of  perils  by  his  own  country- 
men; of  perils  by  the  heathen;  of  perils  among  false 
brethren;  and  yet  he  never  complained  that  his  sacri- 
fices were  great  or  his  work  humiliating.  Amidst  all 
this  scene  of  labour  and  suffering,  he  felt  himself  an 
unspeakable  debtor  to  divine  grace,  that  he  "  was  al- 
lowed of  God  to  be  put  in  trust  with  the  gospel,"  and 
to  preach  its  saving  truths  among  the  heathen. 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   MISSIOT^S.  285 

Such  a  spirit,  my  brethren,  must  we  possess,  if  we 
would    labour   successfully    in    the    missionary  cause. 
If  it  be  the  impulse  of  reason,  or  conscience,  only  that 
w-e  feel,  we  shall  lack  an  essential  part  of  the  apostle's 
temper.     If  we  have  not  indeed  such  exalted  views  of 
the  gospel  itself— such  a  love  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
its  glorious  author,  and  such   a  tender  concern  for  the 
salvation  of  the  heathen,  as  to  make  us  feel  it  to  be  an 
honour  and   privilege  to  put  our  hands  to   this  work, 
in   however  humble   a  manner,  we  shall  do   nothing 
worthy  of  the  cause:  we  shall  only  give  another  proof 
to  the  world,  how  little  we  believe  our  own   religion, 
and  how  little  its  benevolent  spirit  has  been  transfused 
into  our  hearts.     But  w^here  is  the  man  that  has  him- 
self tasted  the  love  of  a  dying  Saviour,  who  does  not 
feel   it  to  be  a  privilege  to   unite  with  him  in  seeking 
the  salvation  of  a  lost  world?     Where  is  the  man  that 
has  found  a  place  of  safety  for  his  own  soul,  who  does 
not  burn  with  a  holy  zeal  to  point  his  perishing  fellow 
mortals  to  the  same  refuge? 

It  is  a  privilege  of  no  mean  character  to  become  the 
benefactors  of  others,  in  things  pertaining  to  this  life. 
All  who  have  made  the  experiment  have  found  that 
even  here,  "  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 
How  honourable  then  the  employment,  how  noble 
the  privilege,  to  contribute  to  the  eternal  happiness  of 
our  fellow  beings — to  become  coworkers  with  God  in 
the  matter  of  their  salvation;  to  be  instruments  of 
rearing  eternal  monuments  of  praise  to  him  in  a  future 

world? 

We  celebrate  the  benevolence  of  a  man,  who  ex- 
25* 


286  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

poses  his  life  to  save  another  from  a  watery  grave;  or 
who  visits  the  dungeon  to  find  the  objects  of  his  com- 
passion, and  to  administer  relief  to  the  lonely  sufferer, 
dying  of  want  or  disease.  But  how  much  more  ex- 
alted his  charity,  who  forsakes  his  kindred  and  his 
native  land  forever,  to  explore  distant  and  inhospitable 
regions  in  quest  of  sinners,  immersed  in  ignorance  and 
superstition,  and  wallowing  in  the  mire  of  sensuality: 
his  charity,  who  is  willing  to  undergo  every  hardship, 
and  to  sustain  every  trial,  in  erecting  the  banners  of 
the  cross  among  the  benighted  heathen. 

To  take  the  least  share  in  this  work,  whether  by 
our  counsels  or  our  prayers,  or  if  it  be  only  by  con- 
tributing a  humble  pittance  to  the  support  of  those 
w^ho  are  more  immediately  and  actively  engaged,  is 
an  honour  worth  living  for,  and  for  which  every  good 
man  will  be  thankful  through  eternity. 

IV.  Shall  I  observe  in  the  fourth  place,  that  though 
St.  Paul  esteemed  it  his  highest  honour  to  be  instru- 
mental in  spreading  the  gospel  among  the  heathen, 
yet  he  did  not  seek  his  own  glory  in  this  work. 

It  was  not  for  the  purpose  of  approving  himself  to 
his  best  friends,  and  much  less  for  the  sake  of  trans- 
mitting his  name  with  honour  to  posterity,  that  he 
embarked  in  an  undertaking  so  full  of  peril,  and 
fraught  with  interests  of  such  amazing  magnitude. 
"Neither  of  men  sought  we  glory,"  says  he  to  the 
Corinthians,  "  nor  yet  of  you.  We  preach  not  our- 
selves, but  Jesus  Christ  the  Lord,  and  ourselves  your 
servants  for  Jesus's  sake."'  This  was  a  strong  and  dis- 
tinctive feature  in  his  character,  as  a  missionary  of  the 


THD    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.*  287 

cross.  This  imparted  to  him  a  firmness  and  elevation 
of  mind,  which  rendered  him  superior  to  corruption 
and  versatility.  His  pole  star  being  neither  human 
vanity  nor  pride,  but  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salva- 
tion of  men,  he  was  kept  steady  to  his  purpose,  through 
all  changes  and  trials.  God  approved  of  his  sincerity, 
and  rewarded  it  with  the  most  striking  and  visible 
success. 

With  the  same  holy  and  disinterested  spirit,  we 
also  may  hope  to  stand  approved;  and  that  God  will 
not  suffer  our  labours  to  be  in  vain.  But  if  for  the 
humble  purpose  of  treading  in  the  steps  of  others,  and 
according  in  our  opinions  and  practice  with  the  fashion 
of  the  times;  if  we  seek  only  to  make  a  figure  in  our 
day  and  generation,  unmoved  by  compassion  for  the 
heathen,  and  a  concern  for  the  Divine  glory,  God  will 
say,  "  Put  your  burnt  offerings  to  your  sacrifices,  I 
have  no  delight  in  them." 

Is  this  remark  unseasonable?  We  cannot  doubt 
that  extensive  missions  among  the  heathen  have  been 
undertaken  and  many  sacrifices  made,  for  the  narrow 
purpose  of  adding  to  the  number  and  splendour  of  a 
particular  church;  or  perhaps  wuth  the  more  selfish 
design  of  adding  a  wreath  to  the  crown  of  individual 
talent  and  exertion.  But  God  abhors  these  sordid 
and  earth-born  motives.  Can  we  hope  that  he  will 
bless  us,  and  bring  us  into  the  goodly  land,  unless  he 
delight  in  us?  Will  he  delight  in  us,  unless  we  delight 
in  his  cause,  abstracted  from  our  owm  private  views 
and  interests?  He  is  a  God  of  love,  and  has  made  a 
spirit  of  disinterested  affection  the  spring  of  all  accep- 


288  THE    SPIRIT   OF   PAUL 

table  duty.  It  is  this  alone  which  can  elevate  us  to 
the  purity  and  dignity  of  the  ancient  churches,  and 
give  us  a  zeal  for  the  spread  of  the  gospel,  sincere  and 
permanent  as  theirs.  A  zeal  founded  upon  any  other 
principle,  will  draw  its  motives  chiefly  from  this  world? 
and  though  it  may  burn  high  for  a  season,  and  aston- 
ish many  by  its  brightness  and  vehemence,  it  is  still 
like  the  meteor,  which  shoots  suddenly  across  the  sky, 
and  terminates  in  darkness.  That  zeal  which  shall 
burn  with  a  clear  and  lasting  flame,  must  be  kindled 
at  the  altar  of  pure  and  holy  love. 

V.  Finally  let  us  not  overlook  St.  Paul's  firm  and 
constant  reliance  upon  God. 

He  was  zealous  and  laborious — but  he  did  not  ex- 
pect to  convert  the  world  by  his  ow^n  power.  His  en- 
dowments indeed  weie  of  the  highest  order,  both 
natural  and  acquired.  To  these  were  superadded  such 
miraculous  gifts,  as  not  to  leave  him  "  a  whit  behind 
the  very  chief  of  the  apostles."  Yet  with  all  these 
advantages,  he  was  disposed  to  say,  "  He  that  planteth, 
and  he  that  watereth  is  nothing  but  God  that  giveth 
the  increase."  His  reliance  for  success  was  upon  the 
Holy  Ghost  sent  down  from  Heaven,  in  his  convincing 
and  sanctifying  operations.  Why  else  did  he  pray  so 
fervently  for  a  blessing  upon  his  labours,  and  so  con- 
stantly solicit  the  prayers  of  his  brethren? 

This  part  of  his  example  is  particularly  worthy  of 
our  regard.  The  cause  of  missions  is  eminently  the 
cause  of  God.  He  can  only  give  it  success.  To  the 
agency  of  his  spirit  we  must  ascribe  it,  thai  any  are 
brought  to  the  saving  knowledge  of  the  truth  in  Christ- 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  289 

ian  lands,  where  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  are  the 
creed  of  men's  early  years.  But  among  the  heathen, 
where  the  obstacles  to  divine  truth  are  multiplied  and 
various,  what  can  we  look  for  without  the  special 
agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit? 

I  know  indeed  there  are  some,  who,  even  with  this 
agency,  so  long  as  it  falls  short  of  miraculous  gifts,  im- 
agine that  we  have  but  a  discouraging  prospect  of  con- 
verting the  heathen;  and  they  attribute  the  want  of 
success  among  missionaries  in  modern  times  to  the 
absence  of  miraculous  powders.  We  shall  certainly  not 
allege  that  such  powers  would  be  of  no  consequence 
to  the  missionary  of  Christ;  but  we  may  safely  affirm 
that  they  are  not  necessary.  They  were  all-impor- 
tant in  laying  the  foundations  of  Christianity;  but 
having  once  existed,  and  a  faithful  record  of  them 
been  transmitted  to  our  times,  it  is  sufficient  now  to 
refer  to  them,  w^hether  for  the  conviction  of  those  who 
are  born  under  the  light  of  the  gospel,  or  of  those  to 
whom  the  knowledge  of  it  is  now  to  be  imparted. 

This  is  not  mere  theory,  brethren.  What  is  the 
state  of  facts?  Have  no  nations  been  converted  to 
Christianity  since  the  age  of  miracles  ceased?  When 
did  the  ancient  Franks  and  Germans  receive  the  gos- 
pel? W^hen  the  Swedes  and  Danes,  and  other  northern 
nations?  These,  with  the  greater  part  of  our  own 
ancestors,  were  heathens  long  since  miraculous  powers 
were  known  in  the  church.  What  shall  we  say  of 
the  Moravian  missionaries  in  Greenland  and  Labra- 
dor? Of  Swartz  and  his  coadjutors  among  the  natives 
of  Indostan?     Was  it  the  power  of  working  miracles. 


290 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 


which  gave  to  their  labours  such  visible  and  triumphant 
success?  Had  Vanderkerap  this  power  in  converting 
the  wandering  and  ignorant  Hottentots?  Or  Eliot,  or 
Mayhew,  or  Brainard,  in  the  success  which  accom- 
panied their  labours  among  the  Indians  of  our  own 
country?  They  saw  those  tawny  tribes  moved  under 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  as  the  trees  of  the  wood 
are  moved  with  a  mighty  wind.  They  saw  hundreds 
eagerly  embracing  the  word  of  life,  not  because  that 
word  was  confirmed  by  mighty  signs  and  wonders  and 
gifts  of  a  miraculous  kind,  but  because  the  Spirit  of 
God  was  poured  upon  them  in  his  enlightening,  con- 
vincing and  sanctifying  power.  What  has  been,  my 
brethren,  may  be  again. 

Besides,  if  the  heathen  are  ever  to  receive  the  gos- 
pel, by  what  means  is  their  conversion  to  be  effected? 
We  have  no  reason  to  expect  that  the  age  of  miracles 
will  return.  The  word  of  God  made  quick  and  power- 
ful by  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit  will  be  found 
abundantly  sufficient  to  accomplish  this  work.  When 
God's  time  is  fully  come  for  gathering  in  the  heathen, 
every  obstacle  to  the  spread  of  the  gospel  will  be  re- 
moved; his  word  will  be  preached  to  all  nations;  his 
Spirit  will  be  be  poured  upon  all  flesh;  and  "  the  know- 
ledge of  the  Lord  will  fdl  the  earth  as  the  waters  cover 
the  sea."  Then  "  will  be  destroyed  the  face  of  the 
covering  cast  over  all  people,  and  the  vail  that  is  spread 
over  the  nations."  Then  the  '-  mountain  of  the  Lord's 
house  will  be  exalted  above  the  hills,  and  all  nations 
flow  unto  it." 

In  the  meantime,  let  us  do  our  duty,  if  it  be  only  to 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  291 

prepare  the  way  for  this  glorious  era  of  the  church  of 
God.  But  whatever  we  undertake,  let  our  eyes  be 
steadfastly  turned  to  the  Lord,  and  let  all  our  expecta- 
tions be  from  him;  let  us  look,  and  wait  and  pray  for 
the  out-pouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  There  is  danger, 
brethren,  that  we  shall  overlook  this  almighty  Agent, 
so  essential  both  to  our  fidelity  and  success;  or  at  least 
that  we  shall  not  give  him  that  place,  in  our  plans  and 
operations,  which  his  high  and  sacred  office  demands. 

To  avoid  this  danger,  and  to  stir  us  up  to  a  vigorous 
discharge  of  our  duty,  let  us  set  the  apostle's  example 
fully  before  us,  and  make  it  a  part  of  our  daily  prayer 
that  we  may  deeply  imbibe  his  spirit.  He  loved  the 
gospel,  and  felt  extensively  its  transforming  power. 
He  considered  it  not  merely  his  duty,  but  his  highest 
honour  and  privilege,  to  preach  its  unsearchable  riches 
among  the  Gentiles.  Yet  he  did  not  seek  his  own 
honour  and  advantage  in  this  service,  nor  rely  upon  his 
own  wisdom  and  strength  for  success.  God's  glory 
was  his  last  end;  and  in  the  divine  power  and  mercy 
he  confided  to  make  his  labours  beneficial  to  the  heathen. 
Could  we  possess  his  spirit  in  all  things,  how  much 
would  it  prepare  us  for  the  work  in  which  we  are  en- 
gaged; and  what  happy  consequences  might  we  not 
expect  to  follow. 

There  would  then  be  no  want  of  missionaries.  Men 
would  rise  up  in  every  part  of  the  country  like  Brai- 
nerd — like  Vandeikemp — prepared  to  leave  their 
friends  and  all  that  the  world  holds  dear,  to  carry  the 
gospel  to  the  wandering  savages  in  both  hemispheres; 


292  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

or  to  plant  it  among  the  more  civilized,  but  equally 
benighted  tribes  of  the  earth. 

There  would  be  no  want  of  pecuniary  means.  Men 
who  have  consecrated  themselves  w^ould  consecrate 
their  substance  to  the  Lord.  If  sparing  from  the  luxu- 
ries of  life  w^ould  not  be  found  sufficient,  they  would 
spare  from  its  ordinary  comforts,  and  sooner  endure  the 
severest  privations  than  that  the  heathen  should  w^ant 
for  the  bread  and  water  of  life.  The  spirit  of  Paul 
w^ould  make  us  offer  more  willingly  for  this  object, 
than  the  ancient  Israelites  did  to  build  their  tabernacle, 
when  it  became  necessary  to  restrain  their  liberality 
by  saying,  "  It  is  enough."  Of  all  charities  this  would 
appear  the  most  noble,  the  most  heavenly;  and  men 
w^ould  be  anxious  to  lend  to  the  Lord,  and  to  lay  up  in 
store  a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to  come. 

Had  we  the  spirit  of  Paul,  the  spirit  of  missions 
would  not  languish,  nor  its  object  fail  for  want  of  con- 
stant, fervent,  and  believing  prayer.  Day  and  night 
should  we  remember  the  poor  heathen,  and  those  w^ho 
have  gone  forth  to  break  the  bread  of  life  to  them.  Ne- 
ver could  w^e  think  of  the  light  and  privileges  we  enjoy, 
without  feeling  the  tenderest  compassion  for  those  who 
sit  in  darkness,  and  sending  up  strong  and  fervent  cries 
to  Heaven  in  their  behalf  And  why,  my  dear  brethren, 
should  w^e  not  possess  this  spirit?  Is  it  not  heaven- 
born?  Is  it  not  godlike?  Does  it  not  comport  w^ith 
our  character  and  profession  as  Christians?  Will  it 
not  impart  a  sweet  and  heavenly  peace  to  our  own 
bosoms?     Has  it  not  a  rich  and  eternal  reward?     No 


THE    SPIRIT   OF    MISSIONS.  293 

object  can  be  conceived  more  sublime;  none  more  im- 
portant: it  involves  in  it  the  glory  of  God  through  his 
Son,  and  the  eternal  salvation  of  millions — an  object 
which  should  at  all  times  greatly  interest  us,  but  which 
the  events  of  the  present  times  powerfully  press  upon 
our  attention.  God,  we  know,  has  promised  to  give 
his  Son  "the  heathen  for  his  inheritance,  and  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth  for  his  possession."  The  time  ap- 
pears at  hand,  when  the  promise  shall  be  carried  into 
complete  effect.  What  mean  these  mighty  revolutions 
among  the  nations  these  last  twenty  years — this  turning 
and  overturning,  in  which  the  hand  of  God  is  so  visible, 
as  to  fill  the  world  with  astonishment?  Do  they  not  tell 
us,  He  is  near  whose  right  it  is  to  reign?  What  mean 
these  movements  in  the  church,  both  in  Europe 
and  America?  These  missionary  societies,  and  Bible 
societies,  which  unite  so  great  a  portion  of  the 
intelligence  and  zeal  of  Christendom?  The  church 
has  awaked  from  the  sleep  of  centuries;  she  is  turn- 
ing her  believing  eye  in  every  direction,  and  seems 
resolved  to  plant  the  standard  of  the  cross  in  every  land. 
I  need  not  tell  you,  brethren,  what  has  already  been 
done  among  the  heathen;  that  Christian  missionary 
establishments  have  recently  been  formed  in  India,  in  Af- 
rica, and  in  the  islands  of  the  Southern  Ocean,  besides  se- 
veral among  the  natives  of  our  own  country;  that  trans- 
lations of  the  holy  scriptures  have  been  made  and  are 
making,  in  very  many  of  the  Asiatic  languages,  spo- 
ken perhaps,  by  not  less  than  five  hundred  millions  of 
people.  More  than  fifty  missionaries  are  now  actually 
26 


294  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL 

labouring  in  pagan  lands.  Others  are  preparing  to 
join  them;  men  of  piety,  men  of  talent.  Thousands, 
who  have  not  seen  each  others  faces  in  the  flesh,  and 
who  are  of  different  religious  communities,  are  united 
in  this  benevolent  and  glorious  design. 

Is  this  a  time  to  sit  still?  Do  we  not  already  see  the 
dawn  of  the  millennial  day?  Do  we  not  hear,  or  seem 
to  hear,  the  accents  of  that  song,  which  shall  yet  re- 
sound from  every  shore,  "  Arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is 
come,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee?" 
But  we  have  our  discouragements.  Besides  those 
which  arise  from  distance  of  country,  unhealthiness 
of  climate,  the  moral  state  of  the  heathen,  and,  in 
some  cases,  their  malignant  and  hostile  feelings  towards 
Christians,  we  have  war  in  our  own  country,  and  war 
too  of  the  most  distressing  character.  Tw^o  Christian 
nations,  most  forward  in  spreading  the  benign  religion 
of  Jesus,  have  drawn  their  swords  against  each  other. 
This,  we  must  acknowledge,  is  a  painful  state  of  things: 
but  though  painful  it  ought  neither  to  overwhelm  nor 
discourage  us.  Jesus  Christ,  the  great  head  of  the 
church,  still  holds  the  sceptre  in  his  hands.  He  may 
permit  great  confusion  and  distress  among  the  nations; 
but  he  will  not,  for  a  single  moment,  lose  sight  of  his 
own  kingdom,  nor  of  those  who  befriend  him. 

Let  our  eyes  and  hopes  be  turned  to  him;  and  let 
us  doubt  neither  his  power  nor  his  mercy,  while  we 
pray  that  the  dark  cloud  which  overshadows  us  may 
be  withdrawn,  and  the  joyful  period  arrive,  when 
*'  Ephraim  shall  no  longer  vex  Judah,  nor  Judah  vex 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MISSIONS.  295 

Ephraim;"  but  when  wars  shall  cease  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  and  all  nations  shall  be  embosomed  in  the 
same  church,  their  king  one  and  their  name  one. 

I  cannot  close  this  discourse  without  inviting  you  all 
to  cooperate  w4th  us  in  sending  the  gospel  to  the  hea- 
then. We  ask  your  counsel — we  ask  your  prayers — 
we  solicit  your  liberality.  Here  is  a  cause  in  which 
all  may  embark,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  learned 
and  unlearned.  Here  the  widow's  mite  will  be  ac- 
cepted j  and  if  given  out  of  love  to  the  poor  heathen, 
will  be  honoui'ably  mentioned  in  the  great  and  last  day. 
Now  you  have  an  opportunity  of  doing  something  to 
spread  the  glory  of  Christ's  name,  and  extend  the 
means  of  salvation  to  your  perishing  fellow  sinners. 
Now  you  have  an  opportunity  of  showing  your  love  to 
Him  who  died  for  you,  and  the  regard  which  you  have 
both  to  his  authority  and  example  He  had  com- 
passion upon  this  lost  world — and  hesitated  not  to  lay 
down  his  life  for  its  redemption.  Dwells  there  a  like 
compassion  in  your  bosoms?  His  holy  and  omniscient 
eye  is  present  to  see,  and  his  recording  angel  to  write 
down  the  fact.  Give,  my  dear  brethren,  as  God  has 
prospered  you^  and  be  not  afraid  to  give  bountifully, 
for  God  will  reward  you  in  proportion  to  your  liberality. 
But  before  you  give,  fix  your  eyes  on  those  vast  multi- 
tudes for  whom  your  charity  is  solicited — those  millions 
who  are  sitting  in  the  region  of  darkness  and  the 
shadow  of  death;  all  made  of  one  blood — all  descend- 
ing with  you  from  the  same  guilty  parent;  all  by  nature 
children  of  wrath — all  hastening  to  the  bar  of  judg- 
ment.    Soon  their  probationary  state  will  close; — soon 


296  THE    SPIRIT    OF    PAUL. 

they  will  sink  from  your  sight — and  from  beyond  the 
reach  of  your  compassion.  But  Oh!  you  will  see  them 
again;  you  will  see  them  at  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ 
— you  will  see  them  arraigned — tried — and  sentenced  to 
eternal  rewards  or  punishments.  What  joy  will  it  be 
to  you,  should  you  then  behold  some  redeemed  sinner 
rescued  by  your  seasonable  and  pious  liberality  from  the 
horrors  of  everlasting  death,  and  made  heir  of  an  in- 
conceivable, and  eternal  weight  of  glory?  Be  it  some 
African — be  it  some  Hindoo — be  it  some  tawny  savage 
from  the  wilderness — the  joy  will  be  equal — it  is  a  soul 
saved  from  death,  through  your  instrumentality.  How 
precious  will  that  pittance  appear,  which  was  devoted 
to  so  glorious  a  cause,  and  which  has  returned  to  you 
with  so  rich  a  harvest.  Ardently  will  you  wish  that 
one  half  of  your  estates  had  been  employed  in  this 
work  of  charity.  "For  now  they  that  are  wise  will 
shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  and  they  that 
turn  many  to  righteousness,"  however  humble  the  means, 
"  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." 

I  leave  you,  dear  brethren,  to  your  own  reflections; 
praying  that  your  charities  may  be  such  as  God  and 
your  own  conscience  shall  approve;  and  that  whatever 
may  be  the  event  of  your  liberality  as  to  others,  it  may 
be  a  treasure  laid  up  in  Heaven  for  you,  which  the 
Divine  Saviour  shall  graciously  disclose  in  the  presence 
of  men  and  angels  at  his  coming. 


SERMON  XVI.* 


THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST. 

MICAH  II.,  10. 
"  Arise  ye,  and  depaH ;  for  this  is  not  your  rest." 
These  words  were  addressed  to  the  inoffensive  and 
pious  part  of  the  house  of  Israel  and  Judah,  who  were 
unjustly  and  cruelly  treated  by  their  brethren.     Though 
they  dwelt  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  which  God   had 
given  unto  their  fathers   for  a  quiet  habitation,  they 
found  no  rest:  though  they  had  laws  and  ordinances  of 
divine  appointment,  well  calculated  to   promote  the 
peace  and  good  order  of  society,  yet  they  found  neither 
safety  nor  enjoyment.     Iniquity,  which  burneth  l.ke  a 
fire  had  made  awful  ravages.     Men  had  risen  up  in 
every  part  of  the  land,  void  of  justice  and  charity,  as 
they  were  of  the  fear  of  God;  men  who  devised  mis- 
chief and  wrought  evil  upon  their  beds-who  were 
eiven  to  covetousness  and  robbery,  and  who,  by  fraud 
or  by  violence,  spoiled  those  who  fell  into  their  hands. 
In  the  verses  preceding  the  text,  the  Prophet  de- 
scribes them  as  plundering  the  weak,  and  forcibly  dis- 
possessing the  women  of  their   pleasant  habitations, 
while  from  their  children,  they  had  taken  away  "  God  s 
glory  forever;"  as  they  had  sold  them  for  bonds-men 

•  A  Sermon  aelivereJ  at  Morristown,  N.  J.,  July  U,  1816. 
26* 


298  THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST. 

and  bonds-women  in  a  land  of  strangers,  where  the  true 
God  was  not  known.  All  these  attrocious  acts  were 
committed  by  men  calling  themselves  the  people  of 
God,  and  who  had  actually  entered  into  covenant  with 
him  to  walk  in  his  ways. 

The  anger  of  the  Lord,  as  might  be  expected,  was 
kindled  against  them,  and  he  determined  to  visit  them 
according  to  their  sins. 

As  an  indication  of  the  judgments  which  he  was 
about  to  inflict,  he  addresses  himself  to  the  pious  suffer- 
ers in  the  midst  of  the  land,  and  says — "  Arise  ye,  and 
depart;  for  this  is  not  your  rest."  Here  is  no  quiet- 
ness, no  safety  for  you;  get  you  into  the  land  of  cap- 
tivity, the  land  of  strangers;  for  your  own  land  is  pol- 
luted— and  because  it  is  polluted,  it  shall  destroy  you, 
even  with  a  sore  destruction. 

The  same  monitory  voice  is  heard  by  the  Lord's 
people  still; — not,  indeed,  to  warn  them  to  change  the 
place  of  their  earthly  abode;  but  to  change  the  current 
of  their  expectations  and  desires;  and,  instead  of  look- 
ing for  any  thing  like  a  true  and  satisfying  rest  in  the 
things  of  this  life,  to  look  for  it  in  God,  and  the  things 
w^hich  appertain  to  his  everlasting  kingdom. 

To  every  child  of  God  in  this  assembly — nay,  to 
every  soul,  of  whatever  character,  does  the  word  of  the 
Lord  say  to-day,  "  Arise  ye,  and  depart;  for  this  is  not 
your  rest."  There  is  nought  on  earth  which  can  satisfy 
the  desires  of  your  minds; — you  will  find  no  place,  no 
condition,  in  which  you  can  quietly  sit  down  and  say, 
here  will  I  rest — here  will  I  enjoy.  Through  every 
step  of  your  journey,  you  will  find  something  to  dis- 


THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST.  299 

quiet  you;  something  to  convince  you  that  you  have 
pitched  your  tent  in  the  wilderness,  at  a  distance  from 
the  land  which  the  Lord  has  promised  to  make  a  quiet 
habitation,  a  perfect  rest  forever.  Arise  ye  and  depart; 
lift  up  your  eyes  to  another  country ;  seek  to  inherit  a 
portion,  w^hich  is  not  liable  to  be  lost  by  misfortune,  or 
torn  from  you  by  violence;  and  which  can  in  no  degree 
be  affected  by  any  of  the  afflictions  or  changes  of  the 
present  world.| 

But  to  give  this  exhortation  the  greater  effect,  I  shall 
call  your  attention  to  three  things: 

1.  The  fact,  which  this  exhortation  supposes,  that 
we  are  prone  to  seek  our  rest  in  this  world. 

2.  That  here  no  true  and  satisfying  rest  can  be  found. 
And 

3.  The  duty  and  the  importance  of  arising  and  de- 
parting from  this  w^orld,  in  our  affections  and  desires, 
and  seeking  the  rest  which  God  has  provided  for  us;  a 
rest  w^hich  is  full,  perfect  and  eternal. 

I.  Let  us  for  a  moment  advert  to  the  fact,  which  is 
presupposed  in  this  exhortation,  that  we  are  prone  to 
seek  our  rest  in  this  world. 

While  this  fact  lies  open  to  the  observation  of  every 
one,  who  wnll  take  the  pains  to  notice  what  is  passing 
in  his  own  heart,  or  in  the  world,  it  is  notwithstand- 
ing connected  with  many  circumstances,  which  may 
justly  excite  our  astonishment. 

We  all  know  that  we  are  strangers  and  sojourners 
upon  earth,  as  all  our  fathers  were;  that  our  days  here 
are  only  as  a  shadow;  and  our  enjoyments  as  transient 
as  our  days.     We  are  well  convinced,  that  whatever 


300  THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST. 

prosperity  may  attend  us,  the  places  which  now  know 
us,  will  soon  know  us  no  more  forever.  At  the  same 
time,  we  pretend  not  to  doubt  the  immortality  of  our 
beings.  We  expect  to  live  through  the  un wasting 
ages  of  eternity,  in  some  unknown  portion  of  God's 
kingdom,  and  to  be  happy  or  miserable,  according  to  the 
part  which  we  have  acted  in  this  world;  and  yet, 
strange  to  tell,  our  thoughts  turn  almost  continually 
upon  the  present  life.  We  are  perpetually  devising 
means  of  securing  the  good,  or  of  avoiding  the  evil, 
attendant  upon  our  condition  here;  with  comparatively 
little  solicitude  what  shall  befal  us  hereafter.  The 
great  object  seems  to  be,  how  we  shall  better  our  cir- 
cumstances— and  be  able  to  pass  the  years  and  months 
which  are  to  come,  with  more  ease  and  satisfaction 
than  those  which  are  past; — or  which  is  the  same  thing, 
we  seem  to  be  looking  for  something  like  a  rest,  here 
on  earth. 

If  this  were  true  only  of  men  of  the  world,  who  are 
confessedly  ignorant  of  the  spirituality  and  power  of 
religion,  the  wonder  would  not  be  so  great:  for  what 
can  be  expected  of  those,  who  have  never  been  enlight- 
ened from  above,  but  that  their  affections  and  desires 
should  be  pointed  to  earth?  But  the  same  thing,  with 
few  exceptions,  is  lamentably  true  of  God's  children. 
Who  that  witnesses  their  cares  and  anxieties  about 
this  mortal  life,  their  eagerness  and  bustle  while  pur- 
suing its  transitory  objects,  would  readily  believe  that 
they  expected  another  life,  perfectly  happy  and  eternal? 

Look  at  them  in  the  hour  of  prosperity:  what  cheer- 
fulness does  a  little  sunshine  seem  to  infuse  into  their 


THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST.  301 

spirits,  while  every  object  around  them  smiles,  and  flat- 
ters them  with  the  augmentation  or  continuation  of 
earthly  bliss?  And  how  soon  does  their  countenance 
fall,  the  moment  their  worldly  prospects  change?  Let 
foul  calumny  assault  their  reputation — the  wheels  of 
business  be  obstructed,  or  some  unforeseen  event  sud- 
denly involve  them  in  poverty; — let  sickness  blight 
their  worldly  enjoyments,  or  death,  by  falling  on  some 
dear  friend,  sweep  away  their  fondest  earthly  hopes — 
and  you  will  see  at  once,  by  the  gloom  or  agitation 
w^hich  attends  them,  how  much  they  were  building  their 
expectations  on  this  world. 

Sanctified  but  in  part,  and  seeing  through  a  glass 
darkly,  their  views  of  another  life  are  not  sufficiently 
clear  and  strong,  to  raise  them  above  an  unreasonable 
dependence  on  the  present.  This  is  evident  from  the 
constant  struggles  which  they  make,  to  become  dead  to 
the  world,  and  alive  unto  God — and  which  constitutes 
no  small  part  of  the  warfare  to  which  they  are  subjected 
on  earth.  This  is  manifest  from  the  repeated  exhorta- 
tions addressed  to  them  in  the  scriptures,  to  be  less 
careful  for  the  life  that  now  is,  and  more  solicitous  for 
that  which  is  to  come. 

Why  did  Jesus  bid  his  disciples  take  no  thought  for 
the  morrow,  saying,  "  what  shall  we  eat,  and  what 
shall  we  drink,  and  wherewithal  shall  we  be  clothed," 
but  because  they  were  in  danger  of  having  their  thoughts 
and  affections  too  much  engrossed  with  these  earthly 
objects?  Why  did  he  exhort  them,  on  another  occa- 
sion, "  to  watch  and  pray  always,  lest  their  hearts 
should  be  overcharged  with  surfeiting  and  drunkenness, 


302 


THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST. 


and  the  cares  of  this  life,"  but  because  he  saw  that, 
with  all  their  attainments,  their  affections  leaned  by  far 
too  much  to  this  w^orld? 

Were  it  not  for  this  state  of  mind,  we  should  never 
have  heard  the  Apostle  say,  "  set  your  affections  on 
things  above,  not  on  things  on  the  earth."  "  Be  not 
conformed  to  this  world,  but  be  ye  transformed  by  the 
renewing  of  your  mind,  that  ye  may  prove  what  is  that 
good,  and  acceptable,  and  perfect  will  of  God." 

All  these  exhortations  presuppose  the  fact  that  the 
minds  of  Christians  are  too  much  weighed  to  earth, 
and  that  here,  to  a  criminal  and  dangerous  degree, 
they  are  prone  to  seek  their  rest.  It  is  not,  however, 
the  existence  of  the  fact  only,  which  I  wish  you  to 
contemplate,  but  its  amazing  extent. 

Could  you  make  the  whole  of  your  lives  pass  before 
you,  and  instantly  separate  those  thoughts  that  have 
been  employed  about  your  present,  from  those  that  have 
been  occupied  with  your  future  state,  would  you  not  be 
surprised  at  the  disproportion?  How  much  of  this  span 
of  life,  would  you  be  compelled  to  say,  has  been  de- 
voted to  the  concerns  of  an  hour,  while  the  boundless 
scenes  of  an  unwasting  duration  have  shared  compara- 
tively but  little  of  your  attention? 

You  cannot  justify  this  direction  of  your  thoughts,  by 
ailed ging  that  you  have  already  made  such  provision 
for  your  immortal  existence,  as  no  longer  to  have  any 
fear  or  anxiety  on  that  subject;  for,  with  regard  to 
many  of  you,  it  is  even  now  a  very  doubtful  matter,  in 
your  own  minds,  if  the  one  thing  needful  be  yet  secured. 
But  if  it  were  otherwise — if  you  had  the  assurance  of 


THIS    WORLD    IS    NOT    OUR    REST.  303 

St.  Paul,  of  your  justified  state,  and  an  assurance  equally 
well  grounded,  it  would  not  acquit  you  from  the  charge 
of  having  given  so  many  of  your  thoughts  to  the  world, 
and  so  small  a  portion  of  them  to  God,  and  the  things 
of  his  everlasting  kingdom. 

The  true  secret  of  all  this  is,  an  earth-born  mind — 
an  unreasonable  attachment  to  the  world — a  disposition 
to  find  a  rest  in  something  short  of  God. 

But,  blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  and  forever 
blessed  be  his  name — no  such  rest  can  be  found.  It  is 
not  on  earth; — it  is  nowhere  in  the  universe  of  crea- 
tures. 

I  doubt  not  but  that  every  true  believer  cordially 
assents  to  the  propriety  of  this  remark.  It  is  your  ex- 
perience. Christian,  as  well  as  the  language  of  your 
Bible,  that  nothing  but  Jehovah  himself  can  fill  the  ex- 
pansive desires  of  the  mind,  and  bring  the  soul  to  rest. 
This  makes  it  the  more  wonderful  that  those,  who  have 
tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,  should  ever  think  of 
forsaking  him,  and  finding  a  resting  place  among  the 
perishing  objects  of  time.  But  this  folly,  I  ought  to 
remark,  is  not  an  habitual  and  prevailing  characteristic 
of  the  people  of  God.  It  is  an  evil,  of  which  they 
complain,  and  of  which,  God,  in  the  course  of  his 
providence,  as  well  as  by  the  operations  of  his  spirit, 
intends  ultimately  to  cure  them. 

They  have  a  conviction  already,  though  not  so  deep 
as  it  ought  to  be,  that  there  is  no  true  rest  on  earth. 
And  others,  if  they  would  give  themselves  time  to  re- 
flect, or  would  faithfully  consult  their  own  experience, 
could  not  fail  to  receive  a  like  conviction. 


304  THIS    WORLD    IS    NOT    OUR   REST. 

II.  But  let  us,  in  the  second  place,  consider  more 
particularly,  wherein  it  appears  that  no  true  and  sub- 
stantial rest  can  be  found  in  this  world. 

If  it  were  possible  to  find  rest  on  earth,  how  comes 
it  to  pass  that  we  never  sit  down  contented  with  the 
present,  and  say  here  will  I  enjoy?  Why  do  we  per- 
petually look  forward,  and  think  of  something  yet  to 
be  accomplished — some  evil  to  be  removed,  or  some 
good  acquired,  before  we  can  be  happy? 

It  is  a  truth,  to  which  the  experience  of  all  ages 
bears  witness,  that  the  more  men  know  of  the  world, 
the  less  confidence  they  have  in  it,  as  a  place  of  rest  or 
of  enjoyment. 

We  may  take  the  testimony  of  Solomon  as  con- 
clusive on  this  subject;  and  that  not  only,  nor  chiefly, 
because  he  was  placed  in  circumstances  to  form  a  cor- 
rect judgment,  but  because  he  was  divinely  inspired, 
and  spake  by  the  authority  of  God:  and  A-hat  is  his 
testimony?  Why,  that  as  in  the  natural,  so  in  the 
moral  world,  all  things  are  full  of  labour,  and  that  there 
is  no  true  and  satisfying  rest  under  the  sun;  that  "  all 
is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

But  not  to  content  ourselves  with  general  views,  let 
us  look  a  moment  at  some  of  the  objects  in  which  we 
are  prone  to  seek  our  rest. 

Can  we  find  it  in  wealth?  To  say  nothing  of  its  im- 
potence to  ward  off  a  thousand  evils  to  which  we  are 
exposed  in  this  world,  it  has  no  power  at  all  to  satisfy 
the  desires  of  the  mind,  and  thus  to  give  us  ease  and 
tranquillity.  "  He  that  loveth  silver  shall  not  be  satis* 
fied  with  silver;  nor  he  that  loveth  abundance  with  in- 


THIS   WORLD   IS   NOT   OUR   REST.  305 

crease.  If  goods  increase,  they  increase  that  eat  them ; 
and  what  good  is  there  to  the  owners  thereof,  saving 
the  beholding  of  them  with  their  eyes?" 

They  usually  bring  a  heavy  weight  of  care— expose 
to  many  temptations,  and  too  often,  alas!  shut  the  door 
of  eternal  life  upon  their  guilty  and  unhappy  possessors. 

Can  we  find  it  in  honour?  Of  all  the  passions  per- 
haps, none  is  more  uneasy,  than  that  which  leads  us  to 
desire  distinction  among  our  fellow  men,  and  none,  I 
will  venture  to  say,  which  sets  the  soul  farther  from  the 
way  of  peace.  When  acquired  in  the  path  of  duty, 
and  in  the  struggles  of  a  magnanimous  and  virtuous 
course,  honour  is  nothing  more  than  a  precarious  life 
in  another's  breath;  not  unfrequently  exchanged  for 
lasting  oblivion,  or  unmerited  disgrace.  It  is  no  food 
for  the  soul;  "one  self-approving  hour,"  said  a  poet, 
who  was  no  incompetent  judge  of  the  passions  and 
interests  of  men, 

"  One  self-approving  hour  whole  years  outweighs 
Of  stupid  stares,  and  of  loud  huzzas." 
Will  pleasure  or  voluptuous  enjoyment  afford  us  rest? 
It  may  pall  our  appetites — it  may  brutalize  our  faculties, 
and  harden  our  hearts— but  it  can  never  satisfy  the 
nobler  desires  of  our  souls.  They  who  live  in  pleasure 
are  dead  while  they  live,  and,  paradoxical  as  the 
remark  may  seem,  they  are  as  dead  to  all  true  felicity, 
as  they  are  to  the  voice  of  reason  and  duty. 

The  same  insufficiency  may  be  seen,  with  respect  to 
every  other  earthly  object. 

Go  to  human  friendships,  however  carefully  formed, 
however  studiously  cultivated;  and  can  you  find  rest 
27 


306  THIS   WORLD    IS   NOT    OUR    REST. 

here?  I  will  not  suppose  that  your  friends  prove  fickle 
or  faithless — an  occurrence  by  no  means  unfrequent  in 
this  changing  world;  but  let  them  be  all  to  you  that 
you  can  wish,  so  far  as  fidelity  and  moral  worth  are 
concerned,  yet  how  often  will  they  find  you  in  a  con- 
dition where  your  wants  are  beyond  their  reach;  where 
an  unavailing  sympathy  is  all  the  relief  they  can  extend? 
Or  perhaps  you  may  be  made  to  feel  your  own  weak- 
ness, and  your  own  misery  too,  by  finding  them  in  a 
state  where  you  can  suffer  with  them,  but  where  you 
cannot  help  them. 

Go  to  the  walks  of  science  and  of  taste,  where  genius 
has  poured  its  ardent  rays  for  ages,  and  try,  by  the  ex- 
pansion of  your  intellectual  powers,  or  by  the  gratifica- 
tion of  the  finer  feelings  of  the  mind,  to  satisfy  your 
desires,  and  obtain  a  rest   to  your  soul — and  you  will 
find  only,  what  Solomon  long  since  found   before  you, 
"that  in  much  wisdom  is  much  grief;  and  he  that  in- 
creaseth   knowledge,  increaseth  sorrow."     If  you  run 
through  the  history   of  past   generations — if  you  visit 
every    country    on    the    globe — if  you   explore,    with 
microscopic  eye,  every  animal,  and  every  insect — if  you 
traverse  the  wide  field  of  plants,  from  the   cedar   of 
Lebanon  to  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the  wall, 
still  you  will  find  that  the   eye   is  not  satisfied   with 
seeing,  nor  the  ear  with   hearing,  nor  the  heart   with 
any  kind  or  degree  of  knowledge,  while  God  himself, 
in  his  true  moral   excellence,  is   either   unseen  or  un- 
known.    Nay,  go  to  your  farms  and  merchandise;  try 
business  in  its  diversified  forms;  it  may  occupy  you, 
and  keep  you  from  pausing  to  think  of  yourselves; — it 


THIS   WORLD    IS   NOT    OUR    REST.  307 

may  afford  you,  at  times,  the  satisfaction  of  reflecting 
that  you  are  rationally  employed,  while  you  are  pro- 
viding for  your  own  wants,  and  the  wants  of  your 
households— but  it  cannot  bring  you  peace;  it  cannot 
soften  the  pang  of  guilt;  it  cannot  draw  the  sting  of 
death:  it  leaves  an  aching  void  in  your  souls,  which, 
immortal  in  themselves,  thirst  for  immortality;  and 
cannot,  and  will  not,  be  satisfied  with  any  provision, 
which  is  not  commensurate  to  their  own  unceasing  du- 
ration. 

But  you  have  religious  society,  and  religious  ordi- 
nances-perhaps  you  expect  rest   in  these.      No,  my 
dear  friends,  not  even  here  will  you  find  rest,  unless, 
at  the  same  time,  you  can  find  God.      No   outward 
privileges,  without  the  presence  of  God  to  attend  them, 
can  afford  us  any  heart-felt  joy:  nor  ought  we  to  cal- 
culate that  any  manifestations  which  He  will  make  of 
himself,  through  the  medium  of  ordinances  on  earth, 
will  bring   our  souls  to  a  satisfying  and  unchanging 
rest      The  disciples  of  Jesus  did  not  find  it   in  the 
presence  of  their  Saviour,  with  all  the  advantages  and 
comforts   attendant   on  that  privilege.     Peter,  James, 
and  John  did  not  find  it  on  the  mount  of  transfigura- 
tion, glorious  and  transporting  as  the  scene  was;  for 
the  messengers  from  Heaven,  and  the  excellent  glory 
with  all  its  circumstances,  soon  passed,  and  left  them 
alone.     Again  they  were  compelled  to  descend  from 
this  eminence,  and  to  mingle  as  before   in  the  labours 
and  conflicts  assigned  to  their  earthly  state. 

So  it  will  be  with  us,  whatever  glimpses  we  gam  of 
the  divine  glory  this  side  of  the  grave.     Our  rest  lies 


308 


THIS   WORLD    IS    NOT    OUR    REST. 


not  below  the  skies.  Comfort  we  may  have — ^joy  we 
may  have,  and  at  times  a  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of 
glory — but  no  rest  which  is  adequate  to  our  wants — 
none  which  is  full  and  permanent  as  that  which  is  in 
reserve  for  the  people  of  God.  What  then  remains 
but  that  we  listen  to  the  exhortation  before  us, 

in.  To  arise,  and  depart  from  this  world,  in  our 
affections  and  desires,  and  seek  the  rest  which  God  has 
provided  for  us — a  rest  which  is  full,  perfect  and 
eternal. 

Such  a  rest,  my  dear  brethren,  is  to  be  found  in 
Heaven — a  rest  free  from  care  and  anxiety — a  rest  from 
all  our  labours,  from  all  our  sufferings,  from  all  our 
sins;  but  not  an  inactive  rest,  where  the  powers  of  the 
soul  will  be  locked  up  in  a  state  of  inglorious  ease, 
destitute  of  sensibility,  as  they  are  of  exertion;  but 
where  every  faculty  will  be  employed,  and  every  ca- 
pacity for  enjoyment  filled.  It  will  be  a  rest  in  God, 
in  his  adorable  attributes,  his  wisdom,  power,  and 
love:  a  rest  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  grand 
medium  of  divine  communications — a  rest  in  the  society 
of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect. 
Here,  kindred  souls  will  meet,  without  the  least  par- 
ticle of  jealousy  or  fear;  they  will  embrace  each  other 
with  unlimited  confidence — and  rejoice  in  each  other's 
felicity,  as  making  a  part  of  their  own.  This  will  be 
a  rest  without  alloy,  and  without  end. 

Can  we  need  arguments,  brethren,  to  persuade  us  to 
seek  such  a  rest;  and  to  seek  it  in  the  manner  which 
God  has  prescribed?  Its  transcendent  glory  and  ex- 
cellence, one  would  think,  were  enough,  not  only  to 


THIS    WORLD    IS    NOT    OUR    REST.  309 

awaken  all  our  powers,  but  to  keep  them  in  a  constant 
stretch,  to  our  latest  breath.  It  is  our  supreme  good — 
the  only  thing,  which  can  make  our  existence  a 
blessing,  or  save  it  from  being  an  inconceivable  and 
endless  curse. 

But,  important  as  this  rest  is,  remember  that  you 
cannot  have  it  without  seeking.  Jt  is  purchased  by 
the  blood  of  Christ;  it  is  freely  tendered  in  the  gospel; 
it  is  taken  possession  of  by  the  great  Redeemer  of  his 
people;  but  it  will  never  become  yours,  unless  you 
desire  it;  unless  you  labour  to  enter  into  it. 

Yet  do  not  imagine,  that  your  labour  for  this  object, 
will  diminish  your  present  enjoyment:  it  will  make 
you  more  happy.  Its  anticipations  will  be  your 
sweetest  consolation  in  affliction — your  firmest  support 
under  trials.  It  will  lighten  all  your  burdens,  soften 
all  your  cares,  and  bring  down  the  very  dawn  of 
Heaven  to  your  souls. 

I  exhort  you,  then,  my  dear  brethren,  to  look  away 
from  this  land  of  your  pilgrimage,  to  the  promised  rest. 
Lose  sight  of  these  mountains  and  hills — these  rivers 
and  valleys;  and  fix  your  eyes  on  Canaan's  unbeclouded 
shores.  There  your  divine  Redeemer  is  gone — there 
the  glorious  armies  of  martyrs  have  ascended — there 
the  millions  of  pious  souls,  who  have  waded  through 
the  cares  and  sufferings  of  the  present  life,  have  found 
a  safe  and  joyful  retreat.  Raise  your  thoughts  and 
desires  to  this  blessed  abode,  and  seek,  by  every  mean 
in  your  power,  to  put  yourselves  in  possession  of  it. 

But  how  shall  you  seek?  By  repentance  of  your 
sins;  a  repentance  deep  and  unfeigned:  by  faith  in 
27* 


310  THIS    WORLD    TS   NOT    OUR    REST. 

our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  a  faith  which  works  by  love, 
and  purifies  the  heart:  by  a  course  of  self-denial  and 
mortification  to  the  world;  by  a  diligent  attendance 
upon  every  Christian  duty,  and  especially,  upon  the 
duties  of  holy  watchfulness  and  prayer: — In  a  word, 
by  seeking  God,  the  author  and  giver  of  this  rest. 
Endeavour  to  become  acquainted  with  him — to  live 
near  to  him,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  to  embosom  your- 
selves in  his  love.  This  will  give  you  a  blessed 
earnest  of  the  rest  of  which  we  speak,  while  you  re- 
main on  earth,  and  a  sure  title  to  it,  when  your  pil- 
grimage is  closed. 

Let  me  only  say  that  the  voice  of  divine  providence 
unites  with  the  voice  of  God's  word,  in  pressing  us  to 
this  duty. 

We  are  admonished  by  every  thing  around  us,  that 
this  world  is  not  our  rest. 

The  progress  of  the  seasons — the  changes  which 
time  is  constantly  working  in  ourselves,  and  in  others; 
and,  above  all,  the  mortality  which  we  witness  among 
those  who  have  pursued  the  journey  of  life  with  us, 
loudly  proclaim  that  we  are  pilgrims,  having  here  no 
continuing  city.  How  many  have  departed  life,  in 
this  congregation,  since  I  closed  my  ministry  among 
you.  I  look  round  with  surprise  on  the  change  of  seven 
short  years.  Where  are  the  hoary  headed  pilgrims 
who  used  to  fill  these  seats,  and  bend  their  knees  with 
us,  before  the  King  Eternal?  W^here  are  multitudes  in 
the  morning  and  midst  of  life,  who  were  the  partakers 
of  our  weekly  devotion?  They  come  no  more  to  your 
assemblies:  they  have  done  with  every  thing  below  the 


THIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST.  311 

skies:  they  have  gone  to  a  world  of  retribution,  and 
such  as  were  prepared  to  a  world  of  rest.  This  is  a 
new  congregation,  in  which  I  feel  myself  a  stranger. 
How  soon,  and  we  too  shall  have  passed  to  our  eternal 
abode!  But,  blessed  be  God,  that,  with  all  the  changes 
time  and  death  are  making,  his  church  still  lives,  and  is 
rapidly  advancing  to  greater  maturity  and  glory.  I 
rejoice  to  hear  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  poured  out 
upon  you;  and  that  many  of  the  youth  have  hopefully 
listed  under  the  banner  of  King  Jesus,  and  are  directing 
their  footsteps  towards  the  promised  rest.  Go  on,  ye 
dear  pilgrims,  and  be  not  discouraged  with  the  length 
or  troubles  of  the  way.  You  follow  the  standard  of 
one  who  will  not  deceive  you.  You  are  journeying  to 
the  land,  of  which  the  Lord  your  God  has  spoken.  It 
is  the  heritage  of  Israel  given  by  covenant  and  by  oath. 
You  will  find  it  a  glorious  rest,  a  quiet  and  eternal 
habitation.  When  you  come  to  count  your  numbers  on 
the  other  side  of  Jordan,  may  none  of  you  be  wanting 
there. 

But,  is  there  no  ground  to  fear,  that  many  in  this 
assembly,  will  come  short  of  that  inheritance?  Is  there 
no  danger  that  some  who  have  been  recently  awakened, 
will  lose  their  impressions,  and  return  again  to  the  beg- 
garly elements  of  the  world?  And  that  others  who  have 
continued  unmoved  during  this  season  of  divine  grace, 
will  be  given  up  to  hardness  of  heart,  and  blindness  of 
mind,  while  God  shall  swear  in  his  wrath,  that  they  shall 
not  enter  into  his  rest?  Are  there  not  some  who  begin  to 
tread  the  evening  vale  of  life,  that  have  not  made  their 
peace  with  God?     Some  who  have  resisted  the  calls  of 


3]2  TRIS  WORLD  IS  NOT  OUR  REST. 

half  a  century,  and  are  now  trembling  on  the  threshold 
of  eternity,  without  any  provision  for  that  boundless 
state  of  existence,  on  which  they  must  so  shortly  enter? 
Will  you  not  hear  the  voice  of  a  friend,  who  again 
addresses  you  in  God's  name?  of  one  who  never  thinks 
of  going  to  the  bar  of  judgment  himself,  without  re- 
membering that  he  must  meet  you  there? 

Oh!  let  not  this  special  season  of  mercy  close,  with- 
out securing  a  title  to  the  inheritance  above.  What 
will  it  avail  you,  that  success  has  attended  your  enter- 
prises in  this  world,  if  you  are  finally  shut  out  of  the 
kingdom  of  God:  that  the  beam  of  mercy  has  long 
shone  upon  your  path,  if  your  sun  must  set  in  everlast- 
ing darkness?  Behold  the  day  goeth  away,  and  the 
shadow^s  of  the  evening  are  stretched  out.  *'  Arise  ye, 
and  depart,  for  this  is  not  your  rest." 


SERMON  XVII.^ 


SLEEPING  IN  JESUS. 


JOHN  XI.,  11. 

^-  "  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepethJ^ 

Jesus  had  his  friends  in  the  days  of  his  flesh;  per- 
sons whom  he  loved  with  more  than  ordinary  affection, 
and  to  whom,  he  himself,  was  preeminently  dear.  His 
immediate  disciples,  whom  he  chose  to  be  near  him, 
the  witnesses  of  his  miracles,  and  the  depositaries  of 
his  truth,  may  well  be  supposed  to  have  shared  largely 
in  his  affections,  and  to  have  been  peculiarly  entitled 
to  the  endearing  appellation  of  friends.  But  among 
these,  some  were  dearer  to  him  than  others,  and  one 
was  known  by  "  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved;"  who 
was  admitted  to  the  most  familiar  and  unrestrained  in- 
tercourse, and  who  was  found  leaning  upon  the  bosom 
of  Jesus  at  his  last  supper. 

There  were  others,  scattered  up  and  down  places  of 
our  Lord's  ministry,  whom  he  honoured,  not  as  disciples 
merely,  but  as  his  friends.  Among  these,  were  Mary 
and  Martha,  and  their  brother  Lazarus,  of  the  town  ot 
Bethany.     As  this  place  was  contiguous  to  Jerusalem, 

*  A  Sermon,  delivered  at  the  funeral  of  Deacon  Stephen  Bald- 
win, of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  Newark,  Feb  4,  1816. 


314  SLEEPING    IN   JESUS. 

it  often  happened,  that  in  passing  to  and  from  the  Jew- 
ish capital,  our  Lord  visited  this  family,  and  lodged  at 
their  house.  They  were  persons  of  great  hospitality, 
and  of  no  mean  standing  in  society.  But  what  ren- 
dered them  peculiarly  dear  to  the  Saviour  was,  they 
were  ardently  pious;  they  loved  his  holy  doctrines; 
they  reflected  the  light  of  his  heavenly  example. 
Mary  delighted  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  to  catch  the 
precious  words  as  they  fell  from  his  lips;  and  on  one 
occasion,  to  testify  her  love  to  him,  she  annointed  his 
feet  with  ointment  of  spikenard,  and  wiped  them  with 
the  hair  of  her  head. 

When  Lazarus  fell  sick,  knowing  the  affection  which 
Jesus  had  to  him,  his  sisters  thought  it  enough,  to  send 
this  short  and  afflictive  message,  "  That  he  whom  thou 
lovest  is  sick."  Enough,  it  would  have  been,  had  he 
reasoned  as  they  did.  But  his  love  was  under  the  gui- 
dance of  a  higher  wisdom.  He  had  something  better 
in  view  than  they  were  contemplating;  something 
by  which  his  own  glory  would  be  more  immediately 
advanced,  and  their  comfort,  and  growth  in  piety,  more 
effectually  promoted.  You  know,  my  dear  brethren, 
the  sequel.  Jesus  did  not  go,  at  the  call  of  his  pious 
family,  to  save  him,  whom  he  loved,  from  death.  He 
abode  where  he  was,  till  the  disease  of  Lazarus  proved 
fatal,  and  his  sisters  had  consigned  him  to  the  tomb. 
Our  Lord,  who  knew  every  thing  that  passed, 
was  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  fact,  and  said  to  his 
disciples,  in  language  softening  the  event  as  much  as 
possible,  but  which,  at  first,  they  did  not  seem  to  under- 
stand, "  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth,  and  I  go  that  I 


SLEEPING   IN    JESUS.  315 

may  awake  him  out  of  sleep."  Four  days  after  this 
melancholy  event,  and  while  the  grief  of  Martha  and 
Mary  was  at  its  greatest  height,  Jesus  arrives  at  Be- 
thany—unites his  tears  with  the  tears  of  these  pious 
sisters,  and  by  a  miracle  of  power  and  mercy,  unex- 
pected to  them,  raises  their  departed  brother  from  the 
grave,  and  turns  their  mourning  into  joy.  0  what 
astonishment!  What  mingled  emotions!  to  see  Laza- 
rus come  forth  at  the  call  of  Jesus,  restored,  at  once, 
from  the  wastes  of  sickness  and  the  grave,  to  his  former 
activity  and  vigor,  prepared  to  mingle  in  the  sweets  of 
retired  friendship,  and  to  gladden  the  circles  in  which 
he  had  formerly  moved. 

How  different  the  prospect  which  lies  before  this 
mourning  assembly!  "  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth," 
but  there  is  no  power  on  earth  to  awake  him.  It  is 
long  since  the  feet  of  Jesus  trod  this  lower  world,  and 
since  the  miraculous  powers,  which  attended  his  minis- 
try, and  that  of  his  disciples,  have  ceased.  They,  who 
go  down  to  the  grave  now,  go  down  with  the  certainty 
of  returning  no  more  to  their  house;  they  commence  a 
sleep,  from  which  they  shall  not  awake  till  these  hea- 
vens are  dissolved;  their  eyes  are  closed,  at  once,  and 
forever,  upon  these  regions  of  mortality.  Whatever  of 
labour,  whatever  of  usefulness,  whatever  of  comfort, 
they  may  have  participated,  all  is  terminated  in  death. 

But  is  there  nothing  to  console  us  in  this  dark  and 
afflictive  scene?  Will  the  gospel  shed  no  light  upon 
the  torabi  O  Jesus,  thou  art  not  here,  to  prevent  our 
friends  from  dying,  nor  to  rescue  them,  when  dead, 
from  the  dark  dominions  of  the  grave.     But  thy  word 


316  SLEEPING    IN    JESUS. 

is  here;  thy  word,  sealed  with  thy  precious  blood, 
attested  by  a  resurrection  far  more  glorious  than  that 
of  Lazarus — a  resurrection  of  thine  own  sacred  body, 
offered  in  sacrifice  for  this  guilty  world ;  a  resurrection 
to  a  state  of  immortal  blessedness  and  glory.  And  has 
Christ  risen?  Yes,  he  has  risen,  as  the  mighty  con- 
queror of  sin,  of  death  and  of  hell;  he  has  risen  as  the 
first  fruits  of  them  that  sleep  in  him;  and  we  have  his 
promise  that  where  he  is,  there  his  friends  shall  be. 
Their  spirits  shall  ascend  to  him  the  moment  they  leave 
this  house  of  clay;  and  at  the  set  time,  the  time  fixed 
in  his  eternal  counsels,  he  will  raise  their  wasted  bodies 
from  the  grave,  and  fashion  them  like  unto  his  own 
most  glorious  body. 

Be  not  afraid,  then,  my  Christian  brethren,  to  ven- 
ture down  into  the  grave,  at  the  call  of  your  Saviour; 
nor  tremble  to  commit  the  remains  of  your  friends  to 
this  mansion  of  the  dead.  They  shall  find  it  a  quiet 
resting  place,  from  the  cares  and  vicissitudes  of  this 
world,  till  the  blessed  morning  come,  when  they  shall 
awake  to  sleep  no  more,  and  awake  in  the  glory  and 
strength  of  immortality. 

But  what  is  the  temper,  to  be  indulged  under  the 
loss  of  Christian  friends?  Are  we  to  dry  up  our  tears, 
in  the  hope,  that  since  they  sleep  in  Jesus,  they  shall 
do  well?  This  would  be  an  act  of  violence  to  our  na- 
ture, while  it  resists  the  call  of  Christian  duty.  A 
stoical  insensibility  is  not  inculcated  by  the  gospel,  nor 
recommended  by  the  example  of  its  great  author.  Je- 
sus wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  tenderly  sympa- 
thised with  his  sorrowful  sisters,  though  he  knew,  he 


SLEEPING    IN    JESUS.  317 

\voul(l  shortly  turn  their  mourning  into  joy.  It  is  fit 
that  we  should  weep  also.  We  are  united  to  our  friends 
by  a  thousand  ties.  Our  happiness  depends,  in  no  small 
degree,  upon  the  relation  they  bear  to  us,  and  upon  the 
endearing  intercourse  which  we  hold  with  them. 
They  can  not  be  torn  from  us  in  death,  without  sunder- 
ing the  tenderest  cords  of  our  hearts.  How  many  re- 
collections press  upon  us  in  the  moment  of  their  depart- 
ure, to  enhance  the  value  of  their  society,  and  to  make 
us  the  more  deeply  sensible  of  our  loss.  Not  to  be 
smitten  with  sorrow,  on  such  an  occasion,  would  betray 
a  criminal  insensibility,  and  be  denying  to  our  friends, 
a  proper  testimony  of  their  worth. 

Besides,  the  mournful  circumstances,  in  which 
death  makes  his  approach;  the  weakness  and  pains  of 
di^olving  nature;  the  change  which  passes  upon  all 
that  is  mortal  ;  the  opening  grave — its  darkness,  silence 
and  corruption,  connected  with  the  recollection,  that 
all  this  is  but  the  certain  prelude  of  our  own  dissolu- 
tion, can  not  but  add  to  the  gloom  of  the  melancholy 
scene,  and  make  the  departure  of  our  friends  a  subject 
of  deeper  sorrow.  Nor  is  it  to  be  expected,  that  any 
pleasing  hope,  which  we  entertain  of  their  happiness, 
will  immediately  extinguish  our  grief,  or  dry  up  our 
tears.  Did  they  tread  in  the  footsteps  of  their  blessed 
Master?  We  need  their  example.  Were  they  pos- 
sessed of  wisdom  and  knowledge?  We  need  their 
counsels  and  instructions.  Were  their  bosoms  warmed 
with  the  fire  of  divine  love,  and  enriched  with  other 
attendant  graces?  We  need  their  presence  to  animate 
us,  and  their  conversation  to  aid  in  beginning,  or  in 
28 


318  SLEEPING    IN    JESUS. 

strengthening  the  divine  life  in  our  souls.  The  more 
excellent  they  were,  the  greater  is  our  loss,  and  so  far 
as  our  present  comfort  is  concerned,  the  greater  cause 
have  we  for  sorrow.  At  the  same  time,  if  it  be  well 
with  them,  this  is  an  important  reason  why  our  sorrow 
should  not  be  excessive. 

This  was  the  Apostle's  argument  with  his  Christian 
brethren,  for  moderating  their  grief,  under  the  loss  of 
their  pious  friends.  He  would  not  have  them  sorrow^, 
as  the  heathen  did,  who  had  no  hope;  or  none  which 
was  well  defined  and  satisfactory.  They  looked  at  the 
grave  as  the  place  of  eternal  silence,  as  the  tomb  of 
all  that  is  dear  in  human  existence.  Or,  if  through 
the  glimmerings  of  tradition,  they  could  spell  out  a 
futurity — still  they  were  ignorant  of  the  character  of 
that  futurity,  and  of  its  connection  with  the  present  life. 
At  the  very  best,  all  was  vague  and  uncertain  conjec- 
ture with  them.  But  as  it  is  otherwise  with  the  Chris- 
tian ;  as  he  both  knows  that  there  is  another  w^orld, 
and  that  joy  and  felicity  await  the  righteous  there,  it 
becomes  a  sacred  duty  to  moderate  his  grief  for  those 
who  die  in  the  Lord. 

That  we  may  feel  the  full  force  of  this  argument,  let 
us  advert  a  moment  to  the  happy  state  of  those  who 
have  fallen  asleep  in  Christ. 

It  is  plain,  my  dear  brethren,  that  they  are  not  lost 
to  us,  though  they  cease  to  reside  in  our  families,  to 
move  in  our  circles,  and  to  mingle  in  our  devotions. 
Death  is  not  annihilation.  It  breaks  down  this  earthly 
tabernacle,  to  which  we  are  so  much  attached,  and  over 
which  we  watch  with  such  constant  solicitude;  but  it 


SLEEPING    IN   JESUS.  319 

touches  not  the  invisible  and  immortal  tenant.  This 
lies  not  within  the  reach  of  the  last  enemy,  but  escapes 
unhurt  to  brighter  worlds,  the  moment  this  lower  build- 
ing falls. 

Governed  as  we  are  by  sense,  w^e  are  apt  to  look  into 
the  tomb  for  our  departed  friends;  our  imaginations 
linger  about  the  spot  where  we  have  deposited  their 
remains,  as  if  all  that  we  loved  was  buried  there. 
But  the  eye  of  faith  looks  to  another  world,  and  beholds 
those  conscious  beings,  who  were  the  real  objects  of 
our  affection,  mingling  with  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect  around  the  throne  of  God. 

We  do  not  consider  a  man  on  a  journey  lost,  because 
he  has  reached  the  end  of  his  course  a  few  days  sooner 
than  his  companions.  We  do  not  say  that  a  ship  is 
lost,  because  she  has  entered  her  port  a  little  before  the 
fleet,  who  commenced  their  voyage  with  her.  Nor  are 
our  dear  friends  lost,  who  have  crossed  the  tempestuous 
sea  of  life,  and  entered  the  haven  of  rest  before  us. 
They  are  landed  on  a  peaceful  shore,  where  no  tempest 
shall  reach  them,  no  gaping  wave  threaten  them  through 
eternity. 

Behold  then  the  happy  change  in  their  condition. 
They  have  left  a  world  of  care  and  anxiety,  and  are 
gone  to  a  world  of  rest. 

The  most  fortunate  pilgrim  on  earth  has  many  things 
to  disturb  his  repose.  If  surrounded  with  friends;  if  a 
competency  of  this  world's  goods,  or  even  an  abun- 
dance, is  secured  to  him,  by  the  surest  earthly  titles;  if 
placed  in  the  most  favourable  situations  for  moral  and 
intellectual    improvement,    and   nothing    is   withheld, 


320  SLEEPING    IN    JESUS. 

which  human  wisdom  can  devise  to  prevent,  or  to  soothe 
the  ills  of  life;  still  he  will  find  the  curse  on  every  spot 
of  earth  which  he  treads,  in  every  portion  of  air  which 
he  breathes.  A  secret  inquietude  follows  him  in  all  his 
pursuits,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  very  enjoyments,  tells 
him  this  is  not  your  rest.  It  would  require  a  volume 
to  lay  open  the  sources  of  this  uneasiness.  He  finds  it 
in  all  his  relations,  in  all  his  interests,  in  all  his  duties; 
he  finds  it  in  things  temporal,  and  things  spiritual,  in 
all  that  appertains  to  his  present  or  future  welfare. 
But  in  Heaven  it  will  be  otherwise.  They  who  have 
reached  that  world,  have  found  a  full,  soul-satisfying  and 
eternal  rest.  Those  devouring  cares  which  wasted  their 
spirits  and  disturbed  their  repose  on  earth,  will  never 
more  reach  them.  Their  minds  will  remain  smooth 
and  unruffled  as  the  summer's  sea,  throughout  their  in- 
terminable existence.  This  should  reconcile  us  to  their 
being  absent  from  the  body,  and  present  with  the  Lord. 

They  have  left  a  world  too,  of  sin,  and  temptation  to 
sin,  and  gone  to  a  world  of  perfect  holiness,  where  no- 
thing that  defileth,  or  worketh  abomination,  or  maketh 
a  lie  shall  enter. 

In  the  days  of  their  pilgrimage,  they  often  groaned 
out  with  the  apostle,  "  0  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who 
shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death?"  Now 
they  are  delivered;  they  see  the  power  of  indwelling 
sin  not  only  broken,  but  completely  destroyed,  and  the 
moral  image  of  God,  but  faintly  drawn  before,  now 
perfected,  and  struck  deep  in  every  part.  What  joy 
must  this  yield  them,  after  years  of  panting  and  strug- 
gling for   conformity  to  God;  especially,   when  they 


SLEEPING   IN   JESUS.  321 

know,  that  they  shall  neither  sin,  nor  be  tempted  to  sin 
any  more. 

They  have  left  a  world  of  darkness  and  sorrow,  for  a 
world  of  eternal  light  and  joy.  At  best  while  on  earth, 
they  could  only  see  through  a  glass  darkly.  They 
found  many  things  which  confounded  their  understand- 
ings, and  cast  a  veil  of  mystery  over  the  works  of  God; 
things  in  his  w  ord  and  things  in  his  providence,  which 
appeared  dark  and  inscrutable.  But  now  this  darkness 
is  past,  and  the  true  light  shines; — shines  with  a  splen- 
dour, which  altogether  transcends  the  conceptions  of 
mortals.  The  clouds  are  driven  back  from  before  the 
face  of  God's  throne,  and  a  flood  of  light  is  poured 
upon  all  the  paths  of  his  providence,  \\hat  enlarge- 
ment of  their  faculties;  what  pure  delight  in  behold- 
ing the  truth  without  a  veil;  what  extatic  joy,  in  see- 
ing the  harmony  which  runs  through  all  God's  works, 
the  great  and  the  minute,  the  simple  and  the  compli- 
cated, all  conspiring  to  show  forth  his  own  glory,  and 
to  promote  the  happiness  of  the  vast  kingdom,  which 
He  governs.  Now  the  former  things  are  passed  away, 
with  all  the  sorrows  which  attended  them.  Whatever 
could  be  called  an  evil  in  this  world,  they  have  left, 
with  their  dying  flesh,  behind.  They  look  from  their 
hills  of  light,  and  see  us  struggling  with  our  calamities 
and  sufferings;  but  they  have  no  longer  any  share  in 
them.  They  have  taken  up  their  abode  in  a  world 
where  no  curse  is  to  be  found.  God  has  wiped  away 
all  their  tears — and  sorrow  and  sighing,  will  forever 
flee  away.  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  and  thirst  no 
more,  and  die  no  more.  Neither  disease,  nor  pain,  nor 
28* 


322  SLEEPING    IN    JESUS. 

want  shall   ever   enter  their  blest  abodes.     Their  joys 
are  unmixed,  exalted  and  eternal. 

Think  of  the  change  in  their  society.  From  dwell- 
ing with  us,  with  all  our  sins  and  imperfections,  they 
have  gone  to  be  the  companions  of  Abraham,  Isaac 
and  Jacob,  wnth  all  the  prophets,  apostles  and  martyrs, 
in  the  kingdom  of  God;  they  have  gone  to  enjoy  the 
innumerable  company  of  saints  and  angels,  which  has 
been  increasing  in  the  family  of  Heaven  from  the  death 
of  Abel  to  the  present  hour.  What  high  converse  must 
they  hold  with  these  pure  and  exalted  beings;  what 
wonders  must  they  recount  to  each  other,  of  the  con- 
descending grace,  of  the  eternal  powder  and  wisdom  of 
God.  Now  they  behold  the  face  of  their  Redeemer 
without  a  cloud;  they  see  him  not  only  as  the  lamb 
slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world,  but  as  the  lamb 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  receiving  the  adoration  of 
surrounding  millions,  cherubim  and  seraphim,  wor- 
shipping with  the  church  of  the  first  born  in  those 
higher  courts.  How  transporting  must  their  views  of 
Christ  be.  What  joy  must  thrill  their  hearts,  while 
they  reflect,  that  this  is  he  who  assumed  their  nature 
and  died  upon  the  cross  for  their  sakes;  he  in  whom 
they  had  so  often  hoped  and  trusted  in  the  days  of  their 
pilgrimage,  and  whom  they  had  so  earnestly  desired  to 
see.  Now  they  stand  in  the  midst  of  his  temple,  and 
worship  at  the  foot  of  his  throne:  now  they  behold 
him  with  unbeclouded  eyes,  and  with  the  joyful  as- 
surance, that  they  shall  never,  never  be  separated  from 
him  more. 

But  their  employment  is  no  less  exalted  than  their 


SLEEPING   IN   JESUS.  323 

society.  They  have  done  with  all  the  grovelling  cares 
and  pursuits  of  this  world;  henceforth  they  are  kings 
and  priests  unto  God,  serving  him  day  and  night  in  the 
upper  sanctuary. 

What  then  is  their  bliss?  Eye  hath  not  seen;  ear 
hath  not  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  to  conceive.  One  hour  of  their  felicity,  far  out- 
weighs the  enjoyment  of  the  longest  and  happiest  life 
on  earth.  Why  then  should  we  mourn,  that  our  Christ- 
ian friends  have  gone  to  the  land  of  promise — to  their 
Father's  house  in  Heaven?  They  do  not  mourn  for 
themselves.  The  things  which  grieve  us,  do  not  grieve 
them.  We  feel,  perhaps,  as  if  their  expectations  were 
cut  off,  and  death  had  come  too  soon.  But  they  regard 
it  as  the  hour  of  their  release, — a  kind  of  jubilee,  which 
forever  sets  them  free.  We  think  of  the  friends  which 
they  have  left — of  the  pursuits  and  enjoyments,  from 
which  they  are  separated; — but  their  felicity  is,  that 
they  have  joined  a  company  of  more  excellent  friends — 
and  have  exchanged  the  occupations  and  enjoyments  of 
a  dungeon  for  those  of  a  palace — knowing,  at  the  same 
time,  that  they  who  are  worthy  on  earth,  will  soon 
follow  them.  W^e  think  of  the  time  and  circumstances 
of  their  departure,  both  of  which  are  often  distressing; 
but  they  regret  neither:  they  see,  and  WMth grateful  and 
adoring  thoughts,  acknowledge  the  w  isdom  and  good- 
ness of  God  in  every  thing. 

Such  is  the  state  of  those  who  have  fallen  asleep  in 
Christ.  Yet  this  is  not  all:  for,  as  we  have  already  in- 
timated, their  flesh  itself  rests  in  hope:  at  the  time  ap- 
pointed their  sleeping  dust  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the 


324  SLEEPING    IN    JESUS. 

archangel  and  the  trump  of  God;  and  shall  come  forth 
from  the  grave,  in  new  and  glorious  forms,  prepared  as 
meet  habitations  for  their  immortal  spirits. 

Who  can  conceive  the  brightness  of  that  morning 
when  the  millions  of  the  redeemed,  from  every  part  of 
the  habitable  earth,  and  from  the  distant  islands  of  the 
sea,  shall  hear  the  sound  of  the  last  trumpet,  and  in  a 
moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  burst  the  bars  of 
death,  and  spring  to  an  immortal  existence?  Where 
now  the  weakness  and  dishonour  in  which  the  body 
was  sown?  Where  now,  corruption,  earth,  and  worms? 
All  is  changed.  Their  newly  organized  bodies  are 
bright,  spiritual  and  immortal,  pure  as  the  flame,  and 
swift  as  the  wind.  Behold  these  joyful  beings  gather- 
ing in  one  vast  assembly  at  the  i  ight  hand  of  their  Re- 
deemer I  Hear  them  singing  as  they  come,  ten  thousand, 
thousand  voices  join  in  the  strain:  "  Lol  this  is  he  who 
vanquished  death  for  you,  who  vanquished  death  for 
me: — this  is  he  who  spoiled  principalities  and  powers 
and  made  a  show  of  them  openly,  triumphing  over 
them  in  his  cross.  He  hath  redeemed  us  from  the 
grave;  he  hath  delivered  us  from  the  curse;  he  hath 
w^ashed  us  in  his  own  blood.  O  death,  where  is  thy 
sting?     0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?" 

Is  this  our  hope  for  those  who  die  in  the  Lord?  Yes  I 
and  for  ourselves  too,  so  far  as  we  dare  to  hope  that 
we  are  the  friends  of  Jesus.  But  alas  I  our  faith  is 
weak;  we  feel  the  pressure  of  to-day,  and  hardly  know 
how  to  weigh  the  afflictionsof  the  present  time,  against 
the  glory  which  is  hereafter  to  be  revealed.  Our  senses 
govern  where  reason  and  faith   should  lead  the  way. 


SLEEPING    IN    JESUS.  325 

But  let  us  endeavour  to  rise  above  the  powers  of  sense; 
let  us  renew  our  application  to  the  word  of  God,  and 
receive  those  consolations  which  this  precious  word  was 
intended  to  bestow. 

We  mourn  the  loss  of  a  father  in  Israel  to-day;  but 
we  do  not  mourn  as  those  who  mourn  without  hope.  We 
have  every  reason  to  believe,  that  he  who  now  sleeps 
before  us,  was  the  friend  of  Jesus,  as  w^ell  as  our  friend 
He  had  long  sustained  the  character  of  exemplary  piety. 
Descended  of  parents  who  were  pious,  he  was  the  sub- 
ject of  early  instructions  and  early  impressions,  on  the 
great  article  of  religion.  He  did  not  obtain  a  hope, 
however,  of  his  conversion,  till  he  was  about  27  years 
of  age;  and  so  great  was  his  diffidence  in  his  own  case, 
that  he  was  not  admitted  to  the  full  communion  of  the 
church  till  many  yeais  after.  For  more  than  twenty 
years,  he  has  sustained  the  office  of  deacon  in  this 
church,  and  for  a  much  longer  period  that  of  ruling 
elder,  in  both  of  which  he  was  eminently  useful. 

Seldom  has  a  man  passed  through  life  with  a  more 
unblemished  character.  The  law  of  love,  appeared  to 
rule  his  heart,  and  the  law  of  kindness  his  tongue.  He 
was  far  removed  from  a  bitter  and  unquiet  spirit.  His 
habitual  cheerfulness,  and  his  known  integrity,  made 
him  a  w^elcome  visitant  in  every  family,  and  often  as 
profitable  as  he  was  w^elcome.  He  was  not  afraid  to 
speak  of  the  things  of  the  kingdom, — and  yet  his  con- 
versation assumed  such  an  air  of  meekness  and  benevo- 
lence, as  seldom  to  give  offence.  Men  could  bear  a 
reproof  from  him,  though  faithfully  administered,  which 
they  could  not  receive  from  others.     They  knew  his 


326  SLEEPING    IN   JESUS. 

motives;  they  knew  that  their  own  good,  was  the  great 
object  at  which  he  aimed.  What  a  record  must  he 
have  in  the  bosoms  of  many,  who  will  never  see  his 
face  but  from  afar.  He  was  a  kind  and  sympathizing 
friend — and,  to  the  extent  of  his  means,  he  was  liberal 
and  hospitable.  There  is  one  at  least  who  can  bear 
witness,  "  that  he  knew  the  heart  of  a  stranger."  He 
was  eminent  as  a  peace  maker,  and  the  first  among  his 
brethren  to  visit  the  house  of  sorrow,  and  to  pour  the 
balm  of  consolation  into  the  wounded  spirit.  The 
widow  and  the  fatherless  can  not  soon  forget  him.  In 
all  his  domestic  relations,  as  a  husband,  as  a  father,  as 
a  relative,  he  was  tender,  interesting  and  amiable.  No 
man  could  reproach  him  with  the  intentional  neglect 
of  any  social  duty.  As  to  his  piety,  it  wore  the  cha- 
racter of  consistency  and  uniformity.  He  was  strict 
and  conscientious  in  the  performance  of  all  its  outward 
duties,  while  it  did  not  appear  to  be  a  mere  outward 
work  with  him.  Seldom  was  his  seat  empty  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  and  never  without  a  valid  reason. 
He  was  frequent  in  his  attendance  upon  meetings  for 
special  prayer,  where  he  often  led  the  devotions  of  the 
Lord's  people,  much  to  their  comfort  and  edification. 
In  visiting  the  sick,  in  caring  for  the  poor,  he  used  the 
office  of  a  deacon  w^ell,  and  procured  for  himself  the 
approbation  of  his  brethren,  and,  we  trust,  the  appro- 
bation of  his  God. 

Though  never  remarkably  confident  of  his  own  piety, 
there  were  seasons  in  which  it  shone  with  too  much 
strength,  not  to  secure  the  confidence  of  his  Christian 
friends. 


SLEEPING    IN    JESUS.  327 

Towards  the  last,  it  plainly  appeared  that  the  Lord 
was  preparing  him  for  his  great  change.  He  w^as  much 
excited,  and  felt  a  special  delight  in  the  exercises  of 
religion.  The  very  evening  before  the  shock,  which 
proved  fatal,  he  attended  a  little  praying  assembly,  and 
expressed  unusual  pleasure  in  the  devotions  of  that 
evening.  The  closing  hymn  was  like  a  new  song, 
w^hich  touched  every  fibre  of  his  heart.*  During  his 
illness,  which  was  short,  and  which  he  apprehended 
might  be  his  last,  he  stated  to  his  friends,  that  the  dread 
of  death  was  in  a  great  measure  removed,  and  by  no 
means  such,  as  he  had  felt  on  former  occasions.  When 
the  last  moment  came,  he  was  like  one  w-ho  drops  to 
sleep  without  fear  or  perturbation.  Thus  closed  the 
life  of  this  pious  and  useful  member  of  society.  And 
where  is  the  man,  in  this  great  assembly,  who  does  not 
say,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let 
my  last  end  be  like  his." 

What  greater  consolation,  ye  immediate  mourners, 
can  we  offer  you?  What  greater  consolation  do  you 
need?  Your  friend  has  been  spared  to  you  to  a  good 
old  age,t  and  has  closed  his  labours  only  because  the 
Lord  has  nothing  farther  for  him  to  do.  His  whole 
life  was  filled  up  with  usefulness  and  duty;  and  his 
very  last  act,  employed  about  the  interests  of  the 
church.  The  Lord  has  removed  him  almost  without 
sickness  or  pain.  His  body,  be  believe,  sleeps  in  Jesus, 
while  his  spirit  lives  and  reigns  with  the  just. 

*  The  hymn  referred  to.  is  the  77th,  2d  Book,  Watts. 
t  He  died  in  his  74th  year. 


328  SLEEPING    IN   JESUS. 

Desire  not  his  return  to  these  regions  of  sin  and 
mortality:  but  rise  in  your  affections  to  those  heavenly 
mansions  where  he  is  gone.  Think  of  his  employment, 
think  of  his  felicity;  and  prepare  to  meet  him  refined 
from  the  dross  of  this  evil  world,  and  to  stand  with  him 
upon  Mount  Zion,  where  you  may  sing  together  the 
song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb.  You  have  sustained  a 
great  loss,  and  the  tear  of  sorrow  is  not  forbidden  to 
flow:  but  murmur  not  against  the  will  of  God. 

To  the  elders  of  this  church,  the  partners  of  his  offi- 
cial duty,  what  shall  I  say?  Is  not  his  death  a  solemn 
warning  to  you, — a  solemn  warning  to  me?  We  have 
laboured  together  in  the  same  field;  we  have  been 
overseers  of  the  same  flock;  we  shall  meet  as  part  of 
our  charge,  the  same  souls,  at  the  day  of  judgment, 
and  give  up  our  account  to  the  same  Lord.  How  so- 
lemn w^ill  that  account  be,  and  how  constantly  should 
we  bear  in  mind,  that  the  hour  is  at  hand,  in  which  our 
work  will  be  done,  and  our  account  sealed  against  the 
day  of  retribution. 

Did  our  brother  feel  for  the  sheep  who  had  wandered 
from  the  fold,  and  earnestly  seek  their  return?  Did  he 
warn  and  entreat  with  all  long  suffering  and  patience, 
and  never  give  over,  but  with  the  greatest  reluctance? 
How  little  must  his  zeal  and  labours  appear  to  him 
now;  now^  that  his  eyes  are  opened  upon  eternity,  and 
he  beholds  without  a  vail,  the  value  of  those  interests 
which  engaged  his  attention  on  earth.  Coiddhe  speak 
to  us  from  Heaven,  w^ould  he  not  exhort  and  charge  us 
to  renew  our  diligence,  and  to  execute  our  trust,  with 


SLEEPING    IN   JESUS.  329 

unshaken  fidelity,  "  On  some  having  compassion,  mak- 
ing a  difference;  and  others  saving  with  fear,  pulling 
them  out  of  the  fire?"     But  I  must  forbear. 

Let  every  Christian  in  this  assembly,  be  excited  by 
this  mournful  scene,  to  prepare  for  his  own  dissolution. 
One*  of  your  brethren,  to  whom  you  were  tenderly 
united,  has  finished  his  warfare,  and  closed  his  labours 
among  you.  He  will  never  visit  your  houses,  or  coun- 
sel you  in  private  any  more.  He  will  never  again 
distribute  to  you  the  holy  symbols  of  Christ's  broken 
body  and  shed  blood.  He  has  gone  to  minister  in  a 
higher  sanctuary,  where  these  symbols  are  not  needed; 
where  the  crucified  Saviour  is  forever  unvailed  to  ador- 
ing saints.  You  will  see  him  no  more  at  your  praying 
assemblies, — nor  join  with  him  in  confessing  your  sins. 
and  imploring  God's  mercy.  You  will  finish  the 
solemnities  of  this  day,  by  committing  his  remains  to 
the  tomb,  in  the  hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection.  Long 
may  you  remember  his  example,  and  cherish  the  vir- 
tues which  shone  so  conspicuously  in  him.  "  Help, 
Lord  I"  should  you  cry,  '*  for  the  godly  man  ceaseth, 
and  the  faithful  fail  from  among  men."  Ardently 
beseech  Him,  with  whom  is  the  residue  of  the  spirit, 
that  He  would  shed  down  his  influence  upon  us,  and 
raise  up  many,  w^ho  shall  bear  the  ark  of  the  Lord, 
when  our  fathers  are  fallen  asleep. 

But  is  nothing  to  be  said  to  the  sinner,  who,  though 
hasting  to  the  bar  of  judgment,  is  manifestly  unprepared 
to  die?  You  feel  a  respect  for  this  man  of  God,  whose 
funeral  service  has  brought  so  many  within  the  walls 
of  this  sacred  house.  You  have  no  doubt  that  he  took 
29 


330  SLEEPING    IN   JESUS. 

a  deep  interest  in  your  welfare,  and  often  sent  up  his 
prayers  to  Heaven  in  your  behalf.  You  are  willing  to 
mingle  your  sorrows  with  his  friends,  and  to  drop  a 
tear  upon  his  grave.  But  why  not  follow  his  example? 
Why  not  lead  his  life?  Can  you  die  wath  safety  with- 
out this?  Can  you  enter  into  the  rest  promised  to  the 
righteous?  An  impenitent  and  unbelieving  heart  will 
forever  disqualify  you  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  If 
death  find  you  in  this  state,  it  will  find  you  under  the 
curse;  and,  as  the  minister  of  God's  justice,  cut  you 
oflf  in  your  sins.  Deplorable  end !  Where  Jesus  and 
his  departed  saints  are  gone,  you  can  never  come. 


SERMON  XVIII.* 


THANKSGIVING. 


PSALM  LXV.,  11. 
"  Thou  crownest  the  year  with  thy  goodness^ 

The  goodness  of  God  is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
attributes  of  his  nature, — and,  when  comprehensively 
viewed,  may  be  considered  as  embracing  the  whole  of 
his  moral  perfections.  His  very  justice  in  punishing 
the  finally  obdurate,  is  but  an  expression  of  his  goodness 
towards  his  kingdom  at  large,  as  every  one  can  per- 
ceive, who  admits  that  order  among  his  creatures  is 
essential  to  their  happiness.  Even  his  truth,  his 
unchangeable  truth,  is  only  another  form  of  that  bene- 
volence w^hich  He  exercises  towards  his  holy  and 
everlasting  kingdom:  or,  to  say  the  least,  his  bound- 
less goodness  necessarily  draws  after  it  his  infallible 
truth;  for  if  we  could  suppose  it  possible  that  he 
should  prove  unfaithful  or  untrue,  the  happiness  of  his 
friends  would  instantly  be  overthrown,  and  their  bright- 
est hopes  swept  away. 

The  living  oracles  teach  that  "  God  is  love,"    and 

*  A  Sermon,  delivered  December  12,  1822,  recommended  by 
the  Governor  of  the  State  to  be  observed  as  a  day  of  public  thanks- 
giving and  prayer. 


332  THANKSGIVING. 

love  of  the  most  disinterested  and  diffusive  character. 
They  represent  Him  as  an  infinite  fountain  of  love, 
continually  pouring  out  streams  of  kindness  and  bene- 
ficence to  his  creatures.  What  else  but  a  benevolence 
communicative  and  boundless,  could  have  induced  Him 
to  give  birth  to  the  numerous  orders  of  beings  which 
people  the  vast  universe,  and  to  make  so  liberal  a  pro- 
vision for  their  wants?  If  the  self-existent  Creator  had 
not  delighted  in  their  happiness,  creation  would  never 
have  begun ;  all  w^ould  have  been  blank,  from  the  tallest 
seraph  that  burns  and  adores  before  his  throne,  to  the 
insect  that  flutters  in  the  summer's  sun  and  dies.  That 
He  should  create  beings  to  make  them  miserable,  is 
impossible, — seeing  He  could  have  no  motive  to  this, 
unless  you  suppose  Him  disinterestedly  malevolent, — 
an  idea  at  once  blasphemous  of  the  Creator,  and  con- 
tradicted by  all  the  operations  of  his  hand.  That  He 
should  create  them  with  an  indifference  to  their  happi- 
ness or  misery,  is  to  suppose  Him  to  act  without  an  end; 
a  sentiment  equally  incompatible  with  his  wisdom  and 
his  goodness,  and  alike  contrary  to  every  man's  expe- 
rience and  observation. 

The  truth  is,  that  independent  of  the  scriptures,  God 
has  not  left  himself  without  witness  that  He  is  good 
and  does  good  continually.  Every  where  do  we  be- 
hold the  proofs  of  his  kind  and  wonder-working  hand. 
In  all  the  forms  of  sensitive  existence  which  crowd 
the  world  we  inhabit, — the  earth, — the  air, — the  sea, 
what  a  train  of  causes  do  we  notice,  all  subordinated 
to  the  great  purpose  of  benevolence, — all  leading  to 
safety  or  enjoyment  in  the  end.     Take  up  any  single 


THANKSGIVING.  333 

class  of  beings,  and  these  classes  are  almost  innumera- 
ble,— observe  the  circumstances  in  which  they  com- 
mence their  existence,  the  provision  which  is  made  for 
their  support,  the  numerous  sources  of  their  enjoyment, 
and  the  multiplied  means  of  their  defence,  and  you  will 
be  alike  astonished  at  the  depths  of  the  Divine  wisdom 
and  of  the  Divine  goodness.  Take  a  still  wider  view, 
and  contemplate  the  almost  infinitely  diversified  orders 
of  creatures  in  this  lower  world;  mark  how  closely  one 
order  is  linked  to  another,  and  by  what  various  means 
they  contribute  to  each  other's  welfare, — while  the 
beneficent  care  of  the  Creator  is  extended  to  them  all 
— a  care  as  minute  as  comprehensive,  as  if  each  were 
the  only  object  of  his  attention, — and  you  can  hardly 
fail  to  exclaim  with  the  Psalmist — "  O  Lord,  how 
manifold  are  thy  works!  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made 
them  all."  But  if  in  wisdom, — then  in  goodness; — for 
nothing  is  wise  in  the  Psalmist's  sense  of  the  expression, 
which  is  not  also  good;  and  therefore  he  adds,  "The 
earth  is  full  of  thy  riches,  and  so  is  the  great  and  wide 
sea,  wherein  are  things  creeping  and  innumerable, 
both  small  and  great  beasts."  It  was  natural  to  his 
devout  and  contemplative  mind  to  give  this  excursive 
range  to  his  thoughts;  and  it  was  useful  as  it  was  natu- 
ral ;  for  the  more  he  considered  God's  works,  the  more 
he  saw  of  his  greatness  and  goodness,  and  the  more 
exalted  were  his  thanksgiving  and  praise.  While 
however  God's  goodness  to  his  creatures  at  large,  was 
often  the  subject  of  his  attention — ^^more  frequently, 
and  in  tones  of  deeper  feeling,  do  we  find  him  dwel- 
ling upon  the  goodness  of  God  towards  man,  his  poor 
29* 


334 


THANKSGIVING. 


rebellious  creature  man.  This  was  the  subject  which 
strung  his  sacred  lyre,  and  tuned  his  voice  to  melody 
in  the  psalm  before  us. 

It  was  not  simply  the  universal  Creator  and  Preserver, 
that  called  forth  his  praise, — but  the  God  of  mercy, — 
the  God  that  heareth  prayer, — and  purgeth  away  the 
transgression  of  his  people — "  the  God  of  our  salva- 
tion" and  "  the  confidence  of  all  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
and  of  them  that  are  afar  off  upon  the  sea."  This 
glorious  Being  who  •'  by  his  strength  setteth  fast  the 
mountains" — "  who  stilleth  the  noise  of  the  seas,  the 
noise  of  their  waves,  and  the  tumult  of  the  people" — 
this  glorious  Being  exercising  a  government  over  men 
gracious  and  benignant,  powerful  and  wise,  is  the  im- 
mediate object  of  the  Psalmist's  devout  and  grateful 
adoration.  But  he  adores  and  praises  God  chiefly  for 
his  goodness, — goodness  which  returns  to  us  with  every 
morning  and  evening,  and  holds  its  joyful  course 
through  the  various  seasons  to  the  close  of  the  year. 

"  Thou  makest  the  outgoings  of  the  morning  and 
evening  to  rejoice, — thou  visitest  the  earth  and  water- 
est  it, — thou  greatly  enrichest  it  with  the  river  of  God 
which  is  full  of  w^ater, — thou  preparest  them  corn 
when  thou  hast  so  provided  for  it, — thou  waterest  the 
ridges  thereof  abundantly, — thou  settlest  the  furrows 
thereof, — thou  makest  it  soft  with  showers, — thou  bless- 
est  the  springing  thereof, — thou  crow^nest  the  year 
with  thy  goodness,  and  thy  paths  drop  fatness;  they 
drop  upon  the  pastures  of  the  wilderness,  and  the  little 
hills  rejoice  on  every  side.  The  pastures  are  clothed 
with  flocks;  the  valleys  also  are  covered  over  with 


THANKSGIVING.  335 

corn;  they  shout  for  joy;  they  also  sing."  And  shall 
not  man  sing,  for  whom  all  these  mercies  are  wrought, 
and  on  whom  this  unwearied  goodness  is  bestowed? 
Shall  he  not  recount  the  loving  kindness  of  the  Lord, 
and  praise  him  with  joyful  lips?  This  is  a  duty  in 
which  the  Psalmist  greatly  delighted,  and  in  which  we 
ought  to  delight.  The  church  in  all  ages  has  made  it 
a  conspicuous  part  of  her  public  service;  and  the  re- 
deemed in  Heaven,  united  with  the  angelic  choir,  will 
never  cease  to  be  engaged  in  a  solemn  recognition  of 
the  Divine  goodness,  and  in  pouring  forth  correspondent 
songs  of  gratitude  and  praise. 

Assembled  in  the  house  of  God  this  morning  at  the 
call  of  the  chief  magistrate  of  this  state,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  performing  this  most  reasonable  duty,  let  us 
advert  in  the  first  place  to  some  of  those  indications  of 
Divine  goodness  which  justify  the  call. 

We  can  none  of  us  deny  that  we  have  been  the  sub- 
jects of  great  and  special  mercies,  which  involve  us  in 
a  debt  of  gratitude  to  that  Almighty  Being  on  whom 
we  all  depend.  But  how  to  bring  these  before  the 
mind  so  as  most  deeply  to  affect  us,  is  a  point  of  the 
greatest  difficulty.  Many  of  our  blessings  are  so  com- 
mon, and  have  returned  upon  us  with  such  uniformity 
from  our  early  years,  that  they  are  in  danger  of  losing 
much  of  their  value  in  our  estimation.  Many  of  them, 
though  of  unspeakable  importance,  and  especially 
those  of  a  spiritual  kind,  are  likely  to  be  little  regarded 
through  the  blindness  of  our  hearts.  Nay,  the  very 
multitude  of  our  mercies,  instead  of  awakening  in  us 
an  increased  sensibility,  too   often   has  the  effect   of 


336 


THANKSGIVING. 


blunting  the  sense  of  obligation,  by  leading  us  to  con- 
sider what  we  receive  as  a  matter  of  right,  rather  than 
as  a  matter  of  favour.  Putting  ourselves  upon  our 
guard  therefore  against  the  influence  of  these  seductive 
causes,  let  us  glance  a  moment,  at  the  more  prominent 
instances  of  the  Divine  goodness  which  this  day  call 
for  gratitude  and  acknowledgment. 

1.  To  a  great  extent,  God  has  given  us  health 
throughout  our  borders.  Rarely  have  the  citizens  of 
this  state  enjoyed  a  greater  portion  of  this  blessing 
than  has  been  measured  out  to  them  the  last  year.  In- 
dividuals indeed,  and  here  and  there  a  neighbourhood, 
have  been  visited  with  sickness;  but  Providence  has 
been  gracious  to  us,  in  limiting  and  restraining  this 
calamity — and  has  no  where  permitted  any  sweeping 
epidemic  or  destroying  pestilence  to  prevail.  In  some 
of  our  sister  states,  it  has  been  otherwise, — and  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  have  been  hurried  into  an  untimely 
grave.  While  we  sympathize  with  them  under  this 
painful  visitation,  it  would  be  highly  criminal  on  our 
part,  not  to  notice  the  kindness  of  the  Lord  in  spreading 
the  wings  of  his  protection  over  us. 

Health  is  one  of  those  favours  on  which  all  our  other 
blessings  in  no  small  degree  depend.  Without  it,  what  is 
wealth  1  What  is  honour  ?  And  the  richest  supply  of  our 
temporal  wants?  In  vain  are  our  barns  filled  with  plenty, 
and  our  presses  made  to  burst  out  with  new  wine;  in  vain 
are  our  tables  loaded  with  all  the  delicacies  of  domestic 
and  foreign  climes,  if  pale  disease  confine  us  to  the 
walls  of  a  sick  room,  and  we  are  compelled  to  vs^ear 
out  wearisome  days  and  nights  in  pain  and  languish- 


THANKSGIVING. 


337 


ment.  Nothing  satisfies, — nothing  exhilarates.  Every 
object  in  nature  loses  its  charms,  while  our  enfeebled 
spirits  depress  us,  and  our  debilitated  bodies  incapa- 
citate for  all  the  useful  occupations  and  tender  offices 
of  life.  They  alone  who  have  felt  the  power  of  disease 
can  fully  estimate  its  privations  and  sufferings,  or  can 
duly  appreciate  the  blessing  of  health.  I  ask  such  of 
you  as  God  has  recently  raised  from  a  sick  bed  and 
restored  again  to  your  wonted  vigour;  to  your  places  at 
your  table  and  at  your  fire  side;  to  your  endearing 
intercourse  with  your  families;  and  to  your  various 
and  useful  employments  in  society:  I  ask  you,  if  the 
blessing  of  health  be  not  enhanced  by  its  loss?  and  if 
you  do  not  esteem  it  one  of  the  precious  gifts  of  life; 
a  favour  which  should  claim  a  tribute  of  humble  and 
thankful  acknowledgment]  Ungrateful  indeed  shall 
we  be,  if  this  blessing,  enjoyed  by  so  great  a  portion 
of  the  community,  do  not  awaken  in  our  bosoms  some 
suitable  sense  of  the  Divine  goodness,  and  excite  us  to 
pour  forth  our  hearts  in  thankfulness  and  praise. 

2.  God  has  blessed  us  also  in  the  seasons  of  the  year. 
If  the  products  of  the  earth  have  not  been  so  universally 
abundant  as  in  some  former  years,  yet  there  has  been 
no  considerable  failure.  Seed  time  and  harvest  have 
been  continued  according  to  the  Divine  promise,  and 
the  husbandman  has  been  permitted  to  sow  in  hope,  and 
reap  in  mercy, — and  in  some  cases  with  joy.  By  a 
propitious  interchange  of  sunshine  and  rain,  the  suc- 
cessive fruits  of  the  seasons  have  been  brought  to  per- 
fes^tion — and  both  the  former  and  latter  harvest  have 
been  gathered  without  loss.     If  all  have  not  gathered 


338 


THANKSGIVING. 


according  to  their  expectations,  still  there  is  an  abund- 
ance, and  no  want  is  feared  either  to  man,  or  the  crea- 
tures which  God  has  given  for  the  service  of  man. 
This  is  a  felicity  common  indeed  to  our  country — but 
ought  not  therefore  to  be  passed  over  in  ungrateful 
silence.  It  is  owing  to  the  good  hand  of  God  upon 
us, — the  smiles  of  his  gracious  providence,  that  our 
seasons  have  been  so  favourable,  and  paiticularly  that 
the  closing  part  of  them  has  been  so  mild  and  benignant, 
and  calculated  to  supply  any  deficiencies  which  might 
have  been  apprehended  from  those  which  preceded. 
Herein  we  remark  the  super-abounding  goodness  of 
our  Creator  and  Preserver, — how  constant  and  tender 
his  care, — and  how  true  it  is  that  his  mercy  is  above 
our  thoughts,  and  better  than  our  fears.  Let  us  not 
refuse  to  give  thanks  unto  Him.  and  to  bless  his  glorious 
name — saying  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Thou  crownest  the 
year  with  thy  goodness,  and  thy  paths  drop  fatness." 
Were  it  necessary  on  this  subject  to  make  a  farther  ap- 
peal, I  might  desire  you  to  contrast  your  situation  with 
suffering  Ireland,  and  some  parts  of  British  India,  in 
the  course  of  the  past  year,  where  thousands  of  our 
fellow  beings  have  beeen  reduced  to  all  the  horrours  of 
famine — and  to  the  pestilence  which  usually  follows  in 
its  train.  Who  is  it  that  hath  caused  us  to  differ?  And 
why  has  our  cup  been  made  to  run  over  with  goodness, 
while  those  more  ignorant,  and  far  less  guilty  than  we, 
have  been  subjected  to  the  keenest  distresses?  Great 
God !  it  is  owing  to  thine  eternal  mercy,  which  is  rich 
and  discriminating  as  it  is  free.  "  Bless  the  Lord" 
then  "  0  my  soul,  and  all  that  is  within  me  bless  his 


THANKSGIVING.  339 

holy  name.  Bless  the  Lord  0  my  soul,  and  forget  not 
all  his  benefits."  He  "  redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruc- 
tion, and  crowneth  thee  with  loving  kindness  and  tender 
mercies."  He  "  satisfieth  thy  mouth  with  good  things, 
so  that  thy  youth  is  renew^ed  like  the  eagles." 

3.  But  there  is  another  blessing  which  distinguishes 
us  from  the  great  mass  of  the  human  family,  and  which 
calls  for  our  devout  and  grateful  acknowledgment — I 
mean  the  blessing  of  a  free  and  enlightened  govern- 
ment. 

Civil  government  is  an  ordinance  of  God,  and  there 
are  various  forms  of  it,  which,  when  w^isely  adminis- 
tered, may  become  instrumental  both  of  much  security 
and  happiness.  But  of  all  the  forms  which  it  has  as- 
sumed, there  is  none  which  is  so  honourable  to  our 
nature,  so  grateful  to  our  feelings,  and  as  I  apprehend, 
so  compatible  w^ith  our  rights,  as  that  which  has  been 
generally  denominated  a  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment,— a  government  which  knows  no  privileged  or- 
ders,— but  which  offers  to  every  man  equal  security, 
and  according  to  his  talents  and  means,  an  equal  pros- 
pect of  honour  and  success.  Such  a  government  we 
have — a  government  of  our  own  choice — where  the 
rulers  and  the  ruled  sustain  a  relation  to  each  other, 
calculated  to  produce  a  high  sense  of  responsibility  in 
the  one — and  a  peaceful  submission  to  law  and  good 
rule  in  the  other. 

I  know  that  the  stability  of  this  government  has 
often  been  questioned,  and  that  the  advocates  of  royalty 
have  predicted  its  early  dissolution.  Grounding  their 
reasonings  upon  the  state  of  society  in   ancient  and 


340  THANKSCrVlNG. 

modern  Europe,  and  upon  the  turbulence  known  to 
exist  under  certain  popular  governments,  they  have 
imagined  that  no  nation  on  earth  possessed  knowledge 
and  virtue  sufficient  to  govern  itself,  independent  of 
imperial  and  hereditary  power.  But  happily  for  us, 
the  experiment  has  shewn  that  their  conclusions  were 
false.  Our  government,  after  a  trial  of  thirty  years,  is 
found  to  be  unspeakably  more  firm  than  at  the  beginning. 
It  has  a  far  deeper  hold  of  the  hearts  of  the  people, 
and  is  sustained,  both  in  its  principles  and  administra- 
tion, by  the  manly  voice  of  millions  of  freemen,  heard 
from  one  extremity  of  the  land  to  the  other.  Beloved 
at  home  and  respected  abroad,  it  stands  forth  with  proud 
and  enviable  distinction,  among  the  first  political  in- 
stitutions of  the  world. 

It  is  not  to  my  present  purpose  to  delineate  the  pe- 
culiar features  of  our  government,  or  to  shew^  its 
happy  adaptation  to  the  w^ants  of  the  people;  but 
when  I  reflect  upon  the  broad  and  equitable  principles 
on  which  it  is  based — the  many  wise  and  salutary 
provisions  it  embraces — and  more  than  all,  when  I  re- 
member the  severe  trials  through  which  it  has  passed, 
acquiring  confidence  as  it  has  proceeded,  I  can  have  no 
doubt  for  myself,  either  of  its  strength  or  its  permanency. 
But  suppose  it  were  to  dissolve  to-morrow,  where  is 
the  man  who  can  say  it  has  not  been  a  great  and  in- 
estimable blessing  while  it  lasted?  Under  its  fostering 
hand,  how^  rapid  has  been  our  improvement  in  science 
and  in  the  arts;  how  steadily  has  every  great  national 
interest  been  pursued  and  promoted,  while  every  man 
has  been  securely  protected  in  his  own  rights,  and  the 


THANKSGIVING.  34 1 

most  important  facilities  afforded  of  gradually  increas- 
ing in  the  means  of  personal  and  social  enjoyment. 

If  we  are  not  contented  and  happy  as  a  people,  it  is 
not  the  fault  of  government;  for  though  I  ascribe 
neither  unerring  wisdom,  nor  sinless  fidelity  to  our 
rulers,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  both  the 
principles  of  our  government,  and  the  general  character 
of  its  administration,  are  entitled  to  the  grateful  notice 
of  a  rising  and  prosperous  people.  In  what  portion  of 
the  habitable  world  can  there  be  found,  at  this  moment, 
a  nation  in  all  respects  as  free  and  happy  as  ours? 
Many  are  still  groaning  under  the  wrongs  and  op- 
pressions of  ages,  with  little  more  of  liberty  than  the 
cattle  in  their  fields:  many  are  pressed  down  with 
public  burdens,  and  doomed  to  yield  their  earnings  to 
the  support  of  men  in  their  civil  and  ecclesiastical  es- 
tablishments, whom  they  neither  love  nor  venerate,  and 
whom  no  agency  of  theirs  can  exert  the  smallest  in- 
fluence in  displacing  or  correcting:  many  are  struggling 
for  liberty,  under  accumulating  difficulties,  with  scarcely 
enough  of  political  science  or  physical  strength,  to  at- 
tain the  object  of  their  wishes; — while  some  in  our 
southern  hemisphere,  are  just  emerging  from  a  sea  of 
blood,  shed  in  the  defence  of  their  natural  rights — with 
good  hope  indeed  of  better  times,  and  a  brighter  day — 
but  who  have  not  yet  reached  that  perfect  organization, 
which  will  ensure  them  a  quiet  and  peaceful  order  of 
things.  0!  while  we  pray  for  the  prosperity  of  all 
nations,  let  us  not  forget  those  who  are  struggling  for 
civil  and  religious  liberty,  in  whatever  part  of  the 
globe  they  may  be  found;  and  above  all,  let  us  not  for- 
30 


342  THANKSGIVING. 

get  our  Christian  brethren  the  Greeks,  who  are  making 
a  mighty  effort  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  the  followers 
of  Mahomed, — a  yoke  of  the  most  cruel  despotism, 
worn  for  ages  by  these  hapless  sufferers.  If  ever  a 
nation  deserved  the  sympathy  of  the  world,  they  are 
that  nation:  and  that  Christian  nations  should  look  on 
and  do  nothing,  except  it  be  to  impede  their  exertions, 
is  a  matter  of  just  surprise,  at  least  to  those  who  are 
unacquainted  with  the  selfish  policy  of  European  cabi- 
nets. But  why  do  I  advert  to  the  condition  of  other 
nations?  It  is  to  make  us  grateful  for  the  blessings 
which  distinguish  our  own.  We  are  a  free  and  in- 
dependent people,  enjoying  all  the  benefits  of  good  and 
wholesome  laws — unmolested  without,  and  blessed  be 
God,  undisturbed  within.  And  to  w'hom  are  w^e  in- 
debted for  all  this?  Ultimately,  to  Him  who  holds  the 
destinies  of  all  nations  in  his  hand,  who  lifts  them  up 
and  casts  them  down, — who  enlargeth,  and  straiteneth 
them  again  at  his  pleasure.  "  0  let  us  then  give  thanks 
unto  the  Lord,  for  his  goodness;"  let  us  say  in  the 
language  of  David,  "  Great  is  the  Lord,  and  of  great 
power — his  understanding  is  infinite.  Sing  unto  the 
Lord  with  thanksgiving;  sing  praise  upon  the  harp 
unto  our  God,  for  He  hath  strengthened  the  bars  of  thy 
gates;  He  hath  blessed  thy  children  w^ithin  thee;  He 
maketh  peace  in  thy  borders,  and  filleth  thee  with  the 
finest  of  the  w^heat — He  hath  not  dealt  so  w^ith  any 
nation:  Praise  ye  the  Lord." 

4.  But  we  have  other  cause  to  praise  Him, — and 
cause  of  much  higher  import.  To  Him  we  are  indebted 
for  our  spiritual  privileges  and  hopes.     We  have  been 


THANKSGIVING.  343 

born  and  educated  under  the  light  of  the  gospel, — a 
light  of  the  most  cheering  and  purifying  character. 
God  sent  his  Son  from  Heaven  to  expiate  our  sins,  and 
open  the  way  for  our  salvation.  He  sent  him  as  a 
prophet,  as  well  as  a  priest,  to  disperse  our  moral  dark- 
ness, and  teach  us  the  way  of  God  truly.  The  gospel 
discloses  his  character,  his  doctrines,  and  his  works, — 
and  taken  in  connection  w^th  Moses,  the  Psalms,  and 
the  Prophets,  presents  a  copious  and  all-sufficient  reve- 
lation of  the  Divine  will.  This  revelation  constitutes 
the  Bible, — a  book  which  we  have  all  had  in  our  hands 
from  our  very  infancy, — and  whose  infinitely  important 
truths  have  been  expounded  to  us,  by  one  means  or 
another,  from  our  childhood  to  the  present  hour.  This 
blessed  book  gives  form  to  our  religion, — is  the  chief 
foundation  of  our  morality, — and  may  be  assigned  as 
the  principal  cause,  that  our  morality  is  both  more  pure 
and  extensive  than  the  morality  of  Greece  or  Rome,  or 
any  of  the  nations  composing  the  heathen  world.  To 
this  in  like  manner  are  w^e  indebted,  in  no  small  degree, 
for  the  wisdom  and  equity  of  our  laws,  and  for  the 
mild  and  benignant  character  of  all  our  civil  institutions. 
Looking  no  farther  then  than  the  present  life,  we  are 
bound  to  give  thanks  unto  God  for  the  pure  and  sacred 
light  of  the  gospel.  It  has  shed  a  propitious  influence 
upon  all  our  earthly  interests.  It  has  taught  us  the 
value  of  our  social  relations — marked  out  with  preci- 
sion their  appropriate  duties, — and  furnished  the  most 
powerful  motives  to  a  faithful  discharge  of  them.  We 
are  better  fathers  and  sons, — better  mothers  and  daugh- 
ters,— better  husbands  and  wives, — better  and  happier 


344  THANKSGIVING. 

in  all  our  relations,  than  if  the  light  of  the  blessed  gos- 
pel had  never  dawned  upon  our  shores.  But  this  is  the 
least  part  of  the  blessing.  The  gospel  contemplates  us 
in  the  light  of  immortal  beings,  and  makes  provision 
for,  while  it  discloses  our  immortality.  It  points  out 
the  true  and  only  path  to  Heaven.  It  tells  us  that  God 
will  forgive  sin,  and  the  conditions  on  which  He  w411 
forgive  it.  It  calls  us  all  to  repentance,  and  bids  us 
believe  on  the  name  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God; 
and  to  the  performance  of  these  duties  it  annexes  the 
gracious  piomise  of  pardon  and  life  everlasting.  It 
pours  a  full  and  consoling  light  upon  the  character  of 
God,  and  the  paths  of  his  providence;  it  teaches  us 
plainly  what  we  are  by  nature,  and  what  we  must  be 
by  grace.  In  a  word,  it  furnishes  abundant  matter  of 
instruction  on  all  that  pertains  to  our  spiritual  and  im- 
mortal concerns,  and  may  properly  be  designated  "  The 
Word  of  Life." 

In  all  this,  w^e  say  nothing  of  the  use  which  we  make 
of  it,  or  of  the  consequences  which  may  follow  upon  its 
abuse.  Like  all  our  other  mercies,  it  may  be  the  means 
of  raising  us  to  honour  and  felicity,  or  sinking  us  to 
greater  depths  of  woe.  It  is  sufficient  for  our  present 
purpose,  to  consider  it  as  an  appropriate  and  indispensa- 
ble mean  of  salvation,  which  should  call  forth  the  loudest 
notes  of  thanksgiving  and  praise. 

I  add  to  this,  that  it  is  not  only  the  means  of  grace 
so  abundantly  enjoyed  that  ought  to  awaken  our  grati- 
tude, but  the  blessing  of  God  upon  these  means.  Several 
of  our  towns  and  villages,  to  the  number  of  fifteen  or 
twenty,  have  been  visited  by  the  special  out-pouring  of 


THANKSGIVING.  345 

the  Spirit  the  last  year,  and  large  accessions  have  been 
made  to  the  number  of  the  faithful.  Seldom  has  this 
state  witnessed  a  more  gracious  visitation.  And  though, 
as  to  this  town  and  vicinity,  it  has  been  a  year  of 
spiritual  drought  and  barrenness,  a  circumstance  which 
calls  for  humiliation,  it  need  not — and  it  ought  not  to 
repress  our  joy  and  thanksgiving  for  the  mercies  vouch- 
safed to  others.  Let  us  exalt  and  praise  the  King  of 
Zion  for  what  He  hath  done;  and  the  wider  our  circle 
of  vision  extends,  the  greater  be  our  rapture,  and  the 
more  exalted  our  song.  Every  fresh  conversion  among 
sinners,  gives  new  inspiration  to  the  joy  of  angels. 
Why  should  it  not  move  the  hearts  of  God's  people  on 
earth? 

Rut  how^  shall  we  testify  our  thankfulness  to  God, 
for  this  and  all  his  other  mercies?  I  have  said,  that  we 
should  praise  Him, — and  praise  Him  with  joyful  lips; 
and  I  add,  that  this  should  be  done  both  publicly  and 
privately, — in  our  religious  assemblies  and  around  our 
family  altars, — in  our  prayers  and  songs  of  melody. 
But  in  exercising  and  expressing  our  gratitude  to  God, 
various  things  are  requisite.  It  is  necessary  to  preserve 
in  our  minds,  a  particular  and  affectionate  recollection 
of  his  mercies.  Without  this,  we  shall  neither  be 
thankful,  nor  show^  forth  our  thankfulness  in  a  manner 
acceptable  to  our  great  Benefactor.  It  is  necessary  to 
maintain  upon  our  hearts,  a  deep  and  powerful  sense 
of  the  obligations,  under  which  his  mercies  have  laid 
us.  They  bind  us  to  a  grateful  remembrance  of  Him, — 
to  high  and  adoring  thoughts  of  his  goodness, — and  to 
a  ready  and  cheerful  consecration  of  all  our  powers  and 
30* 


346  THANKSGIVING. 

means  to  his  service.  This  is  what  we  owe  indeed 
from  our  creation, — i'rom  our  natural  and  necessary 
dependence  upon  Him  as  the  physical  and  moral  Go- 
vernor of  the  world;  but  the  obligation  is  deepened  by 
his  unceasing  care  over  us,  and  his  merciful  attention 
to  our  wants.  Our  sense  of  obligation  ought  therefore 
to  keep  pace  with  his  goodness, — and  this  goodness 
should  strike  us  the  more,  because  bestowed  on  crea- 
tures the  most  ill-deserving.  This  is  the  very  essence 
of  gratitude;  and  I  know  of  no  better  way  of  express- 
ing it,  than  by  yielding  a  cheerful  obedience  to  God's 
commands, — praising  Him  in  the  manner  before  men- 
tioned,— and  carefully  imitating  his  goodness.  This 
last,  the  Apostle  has  assured  us,  is  among  the  sacrifices 
with  which  God  is  well  pleased,  and  it  is  a  sacrifice  in 
the  highest  degree  reasonable.  Do  we  subsist  upon 
his  bounty?  And  should  we  speedily  fall  into  suffering 
and  want  were  He  to  withhold  the  kindness  of  his  hand? 
How  just  and  suitable  is  it,  that  we  should  look  with 
compassion  upon  others,  and  extend  to  them  our  chari- 
table regards?  Have  we  the  poor  among  us?  They 
are  God's  receivers;  nor  can  we  neglect  them  without 
insulting  his  authority,  and  despising  the  riches  of  his 
goodness.  "  Who  hath  made  thee  to  differ?  And 
what  hast  thou  that  thou  hast  not  received?"  And 
wherefore  hast  thou  received  it?  Is  it  not  that,  as  a 
faithful  steward  of  God's  bounty,  thou  mayest  kindly 
and  promptly  administer  to  those  that  stand  in  need? 
Hear  then  the  cry  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan, — and 
turn  not  away  from  the  poor  that  are  within  thy  gates. 
To-day  the  Father  of  mercies  invites  us  to  imitate  his 


THANKSGIVING.  347 

goodness, — to  cast  an  eye  round  upon  the  habitations 
of  poverty, — and  by  our  charities,  to  make  glad  the 
hearts  of  the  children  of  want  and  of  sorrow.  The 
season  of  the  year,  as  well  as  the  solemn  service  of  the 
day,  renders  this  duty  peculiarly  appropriate.  "  Freely 
we  have  received — freely  let  us  give."  And  may  He 
who  loves  and  rewards  the  cheerful  giver,  remember  us 
in  mercy,  in  the  day  when  the  rich  and  the  poor  shall 
meet  together,  before  his  spotless  and  eternal  throne. 


SERMON  XIX.^ 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 


ROMANS  X.,  14. 
"  And  hoio  shall  they  hear  without  a  preacher  ?" 

We  are  assembled  this  evening  to  contemplate  an 
interesting  object  of  charity,  that  of  training  up  indi- 
gent and  pious  youth  for  the  gospel  ministry;  an  object 
not  new  indeed  to  the  Christian  world,  but  which  per- 
haps has  never  been  embraced  with  the  zeal  which  its 
importance  requires. 

It  is  gratifying  to  believe  that  the  friends  of  Zion 
are  beginning  to  awake  to  this  subject,  and  that  the 
day  is  not  far  distant  when  ceasing  to  look  with  an  eye 
of  indifference  over  the  vast  fields  already  white  to  the 
harvest,  they  will  feel  as  if  the  time  had  fully  come 
not  only  to  pray  for  an  increase  of  labourers,  but  to 
put  forth  all  their  strength  in  preparing  men  for  this 
service. 

The  efforts  which  have  been  made  within  the  last 
ten  years,  may  be  considered  as  a  joyful  pledge  of  what 
is  yet  to  be  done  in  this  benevolent  enterprise.     But 

*A  Sermon,  preached  May  12,  1819,  in  the  Cedar  Street  Church, 
New  York,  before  the  Education  Society  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  in  the  United  States  of  America. 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.       349 

the  object  must  be  seen  by  us  in  all  its  magnitude  be- 
fore it  will  be  taken  up  with  sufficient  energy.  We 
must  be  brought  to  believe  that  the  gospel  ministry  is 
the  grand  instrument  of  carrying  into  effect  the  pur- 
pose of  salvation — that  there  is  an  alarming  deficiency 
of  men  in  this  sacred  office — and  that  it  is  oar  duty,  to 
the  utmost  of  our  power,  to  increase  their  number. 

These  topics,  suggested  by  the  text  and  by  the  pas- 
sage with  which  it  stands  connected,  it  will  be  the 
object  of  the  present  discourse  to  set  a  little  more  dis- 
tinctly before  you. 

I.  That  the  gospel  ministry  is  the  grand  instrument 
of  carrying  into  effect  the  purpose  of  salvation. 

The  Apostle  asserts,  that  under  the  dispensation  of 
the  gospel  there  is  between  Jew  and  Greek  no  differ- 
ence; "  For  the  same  Lord  over  all  is  rich  unto  all  that 
call  upon  Him,"  of  whatever  nation.  "  For  whoso- 
ever shall  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
saved.  But  how  shall  they  call  on  Him,  in  whom  they 
have  not  believed?  And  how  shall  they  believe  in 
Him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard?  And  how  shall  they 
hear  without  a  preacher?  And  how  shall  they  preach 
except  they  be  sent?  As  it  is  written.  How  beautiful  are 
the  feet  of  them  that  preach  the  gospel  of  peace,  and  bring 
glad  tidingsof  good  things!"  That  the  living  teacher  is 
here  meant,  in  distinction  from  the  revelation  which  God 
has  made  of  himself,  is  too  obvious  to  require  distinct 
proof.  The  Apostle's  argument  is  plainly  this:  Men 
must  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  that  is,  the  Lord 
Jesus,  and  thus  recognize  the  truth  of  his  mission  and 
the  glory  of  his  divine  character,  in  order  to  be  saved  j 


350      DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

they  must  believe  in  Jesus  that  they  may  call  upon 
him;  they  must  hear  of  him  to  believe;  and  he  must 
be  preached  to  them,  and  preached  by  those  who  are 
sent,  that  they  may  hear.  And  hence  the  conclusion, 
"  That  faith  cometh  by  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the 
word  of  God."  But  does  faith  never  come  but  where 
the  word  of  God  is  heard  from  the  living  teacher? 
There  is  no  necessity  of  pressing  the  inference  to  this 
length.  It  will  be  enough  if  w^e  adopt  what  appears 
to  be  the  sense  of  the  Apostle,  that  the  preaching  of  the 
gospel  by  men  duly  authorized  is  the  principal  means 
appointed  by  God  for  salvation;  and  that  ordinarily, 
w^e  are  not  to  expect  men  to  believe  unto  life  eternal 
where  this  institution  is  either  grossly  perverted  or 
entirely  wanting. 

This  is  a  point  of  too  much  consequence  not  to  com- 
mand our  attention.  Ever  since  the  revelation  of  mercy 
to  this  lost  world,  God  has  had  some  to  make  knowm 
his  will  and  to  inculcate  a  scrupulous  regard  to  it.  It 
was  so  in  the  patriarchal  ages,  before  and  after  the 
flood.  It  was  so  preeminently  under  the  Jewish  dis- 
pensation, when,  besides  prophets  w^ho  w^ere  raised  up 
to  perform  special  services,  one  whole  tribe,  and  nearly 
every  twelfth  man  in  the  nation,  was  devoted  to  the 
work  of  the  sanctuary,  which  included  the  offices  of 
religious  instruction.  When  the  Lord  Jesus  appeared 
in  the  flesh,  he  himself  became  a  preacher  of  righteous- 
ness; and  as  soon  as  he  had  prepared  his  disciples,  he 
sent  them  out  clothed  with  authority  to  dispense  the 
word  of  life.  After  he  had  risen  from  the  dead,  he 
enlarged  their  commission,  and  charged  them  to  go 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.        351 

forth  among  the  nations  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature,  adding  "  Lo  I  am  with  you  always  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  word;"  a  promise  which  not  only  sanc- 
tions the  ministry  of  the  word  till  his  second  coming, 
but  declares  his  supreme  importance  as  a  mean  of  sal- 
vation. In  accordance  with  this,  we  are  assured,  that 
*'  When  he  ascended  up  on  high,  he  gave  some,  apos- 
tles; and  some,  prophets;  and  some,  evangelists;  and 
some  pastors  and  teachers,  for  the  perfecting  of  the 
saints,  for  the  work  of  the  ministry,  for  the  edifying 
of  the  body  of  Christ." 

The  mere  fact,  that  the  ministry  of  reconciliation  is 
established  as  a  perpetual  ordinance  in  the  church,  is 
no  slender  indication  of  its  high  instrumentality  in  the 
business  of  our  salvation.  But  when  we  read,  that  it 
was  expressly  designed  "  To  turn  men  from  darkness 
to  light  and  from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God;"  and 
that  it  is  "  By  the  foolishness  of  preaching,  it  pleases 
God  to  save  them  that  believe,"  we  cannot  hesitate  to 
place  it  first  among  the  means  which  divine  wisdom  has 
selected  for  bringing  men  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth. 

Nor  let  us  suppose  that  the  great  Head  of  the  church 
will  ordinarily  dispense  with  this  mean.  While  it  does 
not  become  us  to  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel;  and  while 
we  admit  that  nothing  would  be  easier  than  for  Him  to 
enlighten  and  sanctify  the  soul  without  the  agency  of 
men,  yet  it  is  not  derogatory  to  Him  to  say  that  this  is  not 
to  be  looked  for.  He  is  a  God  of  means,  and  often  uses 
them  when  it  is  manifest  they  have  no  other  tendency 
than  to  show  the  dependence  of  the  creature,  and  the 


352       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

glory  of  his  power.  Thus  it  was  when  He  bid  Moses 
stretch  out  his  rod  over  the  sea  and  divide  it,  and  make  a 
"way  for  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  to  pass  over;  and  when 
by  means  of  the  same  rod  he  brought  water  out  of  the 
rock  to  satisfy  his  thirsty  people  in  the  wilderness. 
We  have  an  example  of  the  same  kind  in  the  use 
which  our  Lord  made  of  the  clay  to  open  the  eyes  of 
the  man  born  blind.  In  neither  case  was  there  any 
tendency  in  the  means  to  accomplish  their  end,  except 
so  far  that  they  a  ere  of  divine  appointment.  And  we 
naturally  conclude  that  if  in  cases  of  such  an  extraordina- 
ry character,  God  has  chosen  means  to  bring  about  his 
purpose,  He  will  not  readily  depart  from  those  which 
He  has  formally  established  in  the  more  ordinary  dis- 
pensations of  his  providence.  Where  these  are  settled 
and  known,  it  is  presumption  to  expect  the  end  with- 
out them.  Who  ever  thinks  of  reaping  without  sow- 
ing? Or  gathering  his  harvest  without  labourers? 
Scarcely  less  irrational  would  it  be  to  expect  the  gospel 
to  spread  and  take  effect,  without  the  agency  of  those 
whom  Christ  has  called  to  minister  in  his  name.  Surely 
God  will  not  work  a  miracle  to  set  aside  his  own  in- 
stitutions, and  to  encourage  his  people  in  sloth. 

We  derive  an  argument  for  the  necessity  of  the  gos- 
pel ministry  from  the  very  condition  of  our  fallen  race, 
ignorant  of  God  and  of  themselves,  slaves  to  their  guilty 
passions,  and  secure  in  an  evil  course. 

To  accomplish  their  salvation  you  must  awaken  their 
attention — penetrate  them  with  a  sense  of  their  sins, 
and  through  the  knowledge  of  a  Saviour,  lead  them 
back  to  God  whom  they  have  forsaken.     What  means 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED   MINISTRY.         353 

will  you  employ?  Will  you  send  them  the  Bible? 
They  are  so  deeply  immersed  in  their  cares  and  plea- 
sures, so  entirely  alienated  from  every  thing  which  the 
Bible  either  reveals  or  inculcates,  that  they  will  not  go 
to  this  sacred  book  for  instruction — and  if  they  should,  it 
would  seldom  be  with  that  interest  or  intelligence  which 
could  promise  any  important  result.  Its  sublime  and 
glorious  doctrines  would  not  readily  be  understood, 
either  separately  considered,  or  in  the  important  rela- 
tion which  they  bear  to  each  other.  Much  ignorance 
pervades  the  minds  of  many  to  whom  the  gospel  is 
constantly,  ably,  and  faithfully  preached,  which  is  no 
doubtful  proof  of  what  the  result  w^ould  be  if  this  im- 
portant privilege  was  denied. 

I  venerate  the  zeal  which  is  now  awake  to  spread 
the  Bible  through  the  earth.  I  feel  confident  that  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  is  in  this  movement;  and  that  the 
issue  will  be  the  advancement  of  the  cause  of  truth  and 
righteousness  in  the  world.  But  the  Christian  ministry 
must  rise  and  be  carried  forward  with  it,  or  the  effort 
will  in  a  great  measure  prove  abortive.  There  must 
be  men  skilled  in  the  word  of  life,  to  lay  open  its  doc- 
trines and  inculcate  its  precepts, — men  of  holy  and. 
apostolic  zeal  to  proclaim  its  sanctions  and  rewards, — 
men  who  expostulate  and  intreat  in  Christ's  name, — 
living  depositaries  of  the  truth,  whose  example  no  less 
than  their  doctrines,  shall  preach  loudly  to  a  sinful 
world.  Without  a  provision  of  this  kind,  little  will  be 
accomplished  in  the  great  work  of  salvation,  though 
you  should  translate  the  Bible  into  every  language 
31 


354  DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

under  Heaven,  and  diffuse  it  as  widely  as  the  habita- 
tions of  men. 

What  would  become  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  not- 
withstanding their  present  foothold  in  society,  and  the 
volumes  in  which  their  principles  are  ably  discussed, 
were  we  at  once  to  shut  up  every  place  of  instruction, 
and  to  banish  from  the  earth  those  whose  business  it  is 
to  teach  them?  How  soon  would  the  lights  of  science 
be  put  out,  and  men  return  again  to  a  state  of  barba- 
rism? Why  should  it  not  be  so  with  respect  to  reli- 
gion, the  most  profound  as  well  as  most  important  of 
all  sciences?  And  the  rather,  because  there  is  in  the 
human  heart  a  deep  aversion  to  its  sacred  truths. 

If  any  still  doubt  on  the  subject,  let  the  history  of 
the  church  be  appealed  to.  Where  has  the  gospel  pre- 
vailed without  the  instrumentality  of  its  ministers? 
Where  has  it  been  planted,  or  where  taken  root,  but 
through  the  assiduous  labours  of  men,  commissioned 
by  its  author  and  devoted  to  his  cause? 

Individuals  indeed  may  have  been  brought  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth  without  such  aid;  but  the  in- 
stances are  so  rare,  and  so  entirely  aside  from  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  events,  as  in  no  degree  to  justify  the 
expectation  that  much  good  will  ever  be  accomplished 
in  this  way.  Such  cases,  when  they  have  occurred, 
have  generally  attracted  great  attention;  and  a  single 
case  of  this  kind  has  sometimes  been  thought  sufficiently 
wonderful  to  be  proclaimed  throughout  the  Christian 
world.  But  let  us  not  be  deceived:  whatever  opinions 
may  have  been  broached,  or  expectations  indulged, 
God  has  appointed  the  ministry  of  the  word  as  the  grand 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED   MINISTRY.  355 

instrument  of  salvation,  and  He  will  not  dishonour  his 
own  institutions  by  working  without  them.  He  has 
committed  the  treasure  of  the  gospel  to  earthen  vessels, 
that  the  excellency  of  the  power  may  be  of  Him;  still 
these  vessels,  by  the  laws  of  his  house  and  the  order  of 
his  providence,  are  made  necessary.  And  they  are 
necessary  not  only  for  the  instruction  of  the  ignorant 
and  the  conversion  of  the  wicked,  but  for  the  establish- 
ment, the  sanctification,  and  comfort  of  believers.  This 
is  strongly  and  distinctly  asserted  in  a  passage  already 
quoted,  where  Christ,  upon  his  ascension,  is  said  to 
have  given  apostles  and  prophets,  evangelists,  pastors 
and  teachers,  "  For  the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for  the 
■work  of  the  ministry,  for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of 
Christ;  till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect 
man  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fullness  of 
Christ." 

We  cannot  dwell  upon  this  article,  or  it  might  be 
shown  from  the  deplorable  effects  which  usually  follow 
a  mere  suspension  of  the  gospel  ministry  in  places  where 
it  was  once  established,  that  little  can  be  expected  in 
the  cause  of  truth  and  virtue  without  it.  Where  there 
is  no  living  teacher  to  lift  up  his  voice,  how  soon  do 
men  lose  their  reverence  for  the  sabbath  and  for  every 
institution  of  revealed  religion,  while  they  sink  into 
habits  of  profligacy  and  vice  which  require  the  labour 
of  years  to  remove.  Many  such  examples  could  easily 
be  pointed  out  in  our  own  country.     But  I  hasten, 

11.  To  call  your  attention  to  the  alarming  deficiency 
of  men  duly  qualified  to  preach  the  gospel. 


356       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

God  has  never  left  his  church  without  a  valid  minis- 
try, nor  is  there  any  reason  to  fear  that  He  will.  But 
seasons  have  occurred,  when  men  employed  in  this 
sacred  office,  have  either  been  so  few  in  number,  or  so 
corrupt  in  point  of  doctrine,  or  so  manifestly  incom- 
petent to  the  duties  of  their  vocation,  as  to  make  a 
famine  of  the  word  of  life  the  inevitable  consequence. 
Such  was  the  fact  in  many  periods  of  the  Jewish  his- 
tory, as  the  prophets  themselves  have  borne  w^itness. 
Such  to  an  extensive  degree  was  the  case  during  our 
Lord's  abode  in  the  flesh;  and  hence  his  compassion 
towards  the  multitudes,  who  at  great  expense  and 
fatigue,  flocked  from  distant  parts  of  the  country  to 
hear  him.  He  regarded  them  as  sheep  without  a 
shepherd,  because  the  shepherds  which  they  had,  though 
sufficiently  numerous,  did  little  else  but  scatter  and 
devour  the  flock.  This  was  a  state  of  things  which 
powerfully  touched  the  heart  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
led  him  to  say  to  his  disciples,  "  The  harvest  truly  is 
plenteous,  but  the  labourers  are  few;  pray  ye  therefore 
the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he  would  thrust  forth 
labourers  into  his  harvest." 

From  that  period  to  the  present  the  same  affecting 
truth  has  been  exhibited  to  the  eye  of  the  church;  but 
alas  I  too  often  without  exciting  those  emotions  which 
so  solemn  and  portentous  a  fact  ought  to  create.  And 
what  can  we  hope  even  now,  by  making  a  statement, 
which  perhaps  is  familiar  to  you  all?  But  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  I  desire  you  to  lift  up  your  eyes  to  the 
heathen  world,  and  behold  the  innumerable  multitudes 
who  are  sitting  in  the  region  of  darkness  and  shadow 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.       357 

of  death— hastening  with  the  certainty  and  rapidity  of 
time  down  to  the  abodes  of  everlasting  sorrow.  On 
them  no  light  of  salvation  shines.  There  Satan,  the 
god  of  this  world,  holds  his  cruel  reign,  receiving  with 
the  light  of  every  returning  day  his  thousands  of  vic- 
tims offered  upon  the  altar  of  pollution  and  blood. 

According  to  calculations  recently  made,  Asia  and 
Africa  alone  contain  six  hundred  millions,  five  millions 
only  of  whom  have  embraced  Christianity  under  any 
form.  All  the  rest,  comprehending  six  parts  out  of 
eight  of  the  whole  human  family,  are  still  under  the 
dominion  of  the  most  fatal  delusions.  But  have  they 
no  missionaries'?  Are  none  gone  to  them  to  point  out 
the  way  of  life?  Not  one,  my  dear  brethren,  to  a 
million  I  The  benevolence  of  the  whole  Christian 
world  has  not  yet  furnished  them  with  four  hundred 
preachers.  What  a  spectacle  is  this  for  those  that  love 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  believe  that  one  human  soul 
is  of  more  value  than  the  temporal  interests  of  a  world! 
How  forcibly  does  it  bring  home  the  truth,  that  the 
harvest  is  plenteous  and  the  labourers  few. 

But  if  we  turn  our  attention  to  that  portion  of  the 
world  denominated  Christian,  what  a  deficiency  shall 
we  find  of  qualified  teachers?  What  multitudes,  wrapt 
in  the  night  of  ignorance,  almost  as  far  from  the  way 
of  salvation  as  the  very  heathen?  Look  at  the  present 
state  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  churches.  How  few 
comparatively  among  them,  who  preach  that  gospel 
which  God  has  ordained  as  the  means  of  eternal  life! 
Without  going  into  a  history  of  their  peculiar  doctrines, 
it  will  not  be  denied  that  they  have  fallen  into  the 
31* 


358       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

grossest  errors,  so  that  while  they  retain  the  name  they 
have  little  left  of  the  purity  and  excellence  of  Christ- 
ianity. The  same  remark  might  be  extended  to  not  a 
few  of  the  Protestant  churches  Avho  have  strangely  de- 
parted from  the  principles  of  the  reformation,  and  im- 
bibed the  most  destructive  heresies.  Wherever  this  is 
the  case,  the  people  are  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd, 
whatever  may  be  the  number  of  their  religious  teachers, 
and  however  such  teachers  may  claim  to  be  the  lights 
of  science  and  religion.  If  they  do  not  preach  Christ 
in  the  glory  of  his  divine  nature,  and  in  the  offices  he 
sustains  in  the  work  of  our  redemption,  they  are  not 
his  ministers — they  bring  not  his  doctrine,  that  which 
distinguishes  his  religion  from  every  other  system. 

My  design,  however,  is  to  fix  your  attention  chiefly 
on  the  deplorable  deficiency  of  religious  teachers  in  our 
own  country.  Those  who  have  investigated  this  sub- 
ject, pionounce  with  confidence,  that  with  a  population 
exceeding  nine  millions  w^e  have  not  more  than  three 
thousand  educated  ministers  of  all  denominations.* 
Allowing  then  one  minister  to  two  hundred  families  or 
one  thousand  souls,  and  we  have  a  supply  only  for  three 
millions,  leaving  six  millions  or  tw^o  thirds  of  our  popu- 
lation unprovided  for. 

This  fact,  alarming  in  the  gross,  is  still  more  so  in 
detail.  For  while  some  parts  of  the  country  have  a 
supply  nearly  equal  to  their  demand,  large  districts  are 
to  be  found  of  fifty  and  of  a  hundred  thousand  souls, 
where  the  sound   of  the  pastor's  voice  is  never  heard, 

*  See  Appendix  A . 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.        359 

and  where  the  inhabitants  daily  sinking  into  deeper 
shades  of  moral  darkness,  are  fast  verging  to  a  state  of 
the  most  pernicious  and  degrading  heathenism.* 

I  can  not  descend  to  the  particulars  on  which  this 
remark  is  founded,  nor  stay  to  fill  up  the  gloomy  pic- 
ture which  will  suggest  itself  to  every  reflecting  mind 
in  this  assembly;  yet,  I  must  be  permitted  to  add,  what 
is  known  to  many  of  you,  that  this  melancholy  state 
of  things,  is  so  far  from  assuming  a  more  encouraging 
appearance  as  time  advances,  that  it  is  every  day  in- 
creasing with  the  rapid  progress  of  our  population; 
and  to  the  eye  that  looks  forward  only  to  few  genera- 
tions, presents  a  scene  truly  appalling  to  the  pious 
heart.  In  less  than  half  a  century,  if  our  numbers  con- 
tinue to  advance  in  the  ratio  of  former  years,  we  shall 
have  forty  millions  of  people,  while  the  ministers  of 
the  gospel  increasing  only  as  they  have  done  for  fifty 
years  past,  will  not  reach  twice  their  present  number. 
What  a  painful  anticipation  of  the  future!  More  than 
thirty  millions  of  our  countrymen  abandoned,  "  not  to 
a  famine  of  bread,  nor  a  thirst  for  water;  but  of  hear- 
ing the  words  of  the  Lord."f 

Be  assured  my  brethren,  this  statement  is  not  over- 
drawn. It  rests  upon  facts  of  unquestionable  authority, 
and  is  but  the  recognition  of  causes  long  since  at  work, 
and  whose  results,  without  the  special  interposition  ^f 
Providence,  will  be  in  time  to  come,  as  they  have  been 
in  times  past.  But  leaving  futurity  in  the  hands  of 
Him  who  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  who  in 

*  See  Appendix  B.  f  Amoa  tiii.,  11, 


360       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

his  government  of  the  world  often  disappoints  the  hopes 
and  fears  of  mortals,  the  present  aspect  of  our  own 
country,  is  that  of  a  field  already  white  to  the  harvest, 
while  the  labourers  that  go  forth  into  it  are  few  com- 
pared with  the  mighty  work  to  be  performed.  Yes, 
there  are-  hundreds  and  thousands  anxious  to  hear  the 
gospel,  and  continually  lifting  up  their  cry  for  teachers, 
who  after  all  their  solicitations,  cannot  be  supplied. 
This  is  a  fact  which  ought  in  a  peculiar  manner  to  in- 
terest us.  I  do  not  say  that  we  are  to  be  indifferent  to 
the  wants  of  the  human  family  generally;  I  admit  that 
our  benevolence  should  be  large  enough  to  embrace 
every  darkened  corner  of  the  earth,  and  that  our  zeal 
to  spread  the  gospel  ought  to  be  of  such  strength  as  to 
send  the  heralds  of  salvation  to  the  utmost  bounds  of 
either  continent,  and  to  the  islands  of  the  sea.  But 
surely  it  is  a  paramount  duty  to  feel  for  the  destitute  at 
home;  to  look  with  an  eye  of  peculiar  tenderness  on 
those  who  are  bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh; 
and  whom  the  providence  of  God  has  placed  within 
the  sphere  of  our  action.  To  drive  these  children  of 
want  from  our  door,  or  with  an  heart  of  indifference  to 
allow  them  to  famish  in  our  sight,  would  mark  a  species 
of  insensibility,  in  a  peculiar  manner  offensive  to  the 
Father  of  mercies,  and  reproachful  to  the  Christian 
name. 

But  what  can  be  done?  Wherewith  shall  we  find 
bread  to  feed  so  great  a  multitude?  If  the  Lord  would 
open  the  windows  of  Heaven  there  might  indeed  be 
hope!  But,  Christians,  is  not  this  the  whispering  of 
unbelief?     Contemplate  the  subject  in  the  light  of  your 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.       361 

responsibility;  dwell  upon  it  with  hearts  of  tender  and 
growing  compassion;  let  the  cry  of  perishing  millions 
vibrate  in  your  ears,  till  the  hum  of  business  and  the 
song  of  pleasure  are  lost  in  the  sound, — and  then  say 
if  something  cannot  be  done.  The  truth  is,  the  path 
of  duty  lies  plain  before  us;  nor  are  there  any  difficul- 
ties which  the  patient  energy  of  enlightened  zeal  will  not 
overcome.  Be  it  so,  that  we  want  some  thousands  of 
ministers,  to  supply  the  dificiency  in  our  own  country, 
and  even  a  larger  number  to  send  abroad  among  the 
heathen;  let  us  not  be  dismayed  at  the  prospect,  but 
commence  the  work  of  preparing  them  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  leaving  it  to  those  who  come  after  us  to 
complete  what  we  have  begun. 

III.  This  is  the  duty  which  I  proposed  in  the  third 
and  last  place  to  set  before  you. 

But  here  a  question  of  deep  importance  arises. 
What  sort  of  men  do  we  want?  Some  in  their  zeal  to 
supply  the  necessities  of  the  church,  appear  to  have 
lost  sight  of  this  enquiry,  and  have  literally  thrust  men 
into  the  ministry  who  were  wholly  incompetent  to  its 
duties;  men  who  besides  being  led  away  by  error,  have 
lowered  the  standard  of  the  sacred  office  and  brought  it 
into  contempt.  Such  labourers  do  but  impede  the 
operations  of  others,  and  render  the  harvest  even  more 
difficult  to  collect  than  if  they  had  never  entered  into 
it. 

Two  things  are  requisite  in  those  who  preach  the 
gospel;  they  must  have  piety,  and  they  must  have 
ability.  They  must  have  piety:  w^ithout  this  they 
would  be  only  like  the  blind  leading  the  blind,  \vhile 


362       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

they  would  lack  that  pure  and  ardent  zeal  for  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  salvation  of  men,  which  is  so  needful 
to  their  fidelity  and  success.  I  do  not  say  that  a  man 
may  not  preach  to  the  salvation  of  others  while  he  him- 
self is  a  stranger  to  vital  piety.  Doubtless  there  are 
multitudes,  who  have  preached  an  unknown  Saviour, 
and  yet  have  been  instrumental  in  the  conversion  of 
others.  The  efficacy  of  the  word  depends  not  on  the 
holiness  or  will  of  him  who  ministers  it,  but  on  the 
energy  of  the  divine  Spirit.  Still  however,  God  will 
honour  those  that  honour  Him,  and  other  things  being 
equal.  He  is  more  likely  to  crown  with  success  the  la- 
bours of  ministers  who  seek  to  do  good  and  to  promote 
his  glory,  than  of  those  who  merely  sacrifice  to  their 
own  net  and  burn  incense  to  their  own  drag.  With- 
out a  renovated  heart  indeed,  no  man  can  have  a  call 
to  preach  the  gospel,  whatever  his  other  qualifications; 
and  woe  be  to  him  if  he  enter  upon  this  holy  service 
without  this  deep  and  essential  requisite. 

But  piety  alone,  however  sincere  or  even  ardent,  is 
far  from  being  sufficient.  He  must  be  able  to  teach, 
as  well  as  willing.  Ignorance  in  any  profession  is  a 
calamity;  but  here  it  is  truly  deplorable.  Here  men 
deal  with  subjects  of  the  greatest  possible  moment, — 
with  interests  vast  and  immeasurable  as  eternity.  Men 
will  not  trust  an  advocate  with  the  defence  of  their 
rights  if  they  know  him  to  be  ignorant  of  the  law,  or 
the  facts  involved  in  their  case.  They  will  not  employ 
a  physician  who  is  confessedly  unacquainted  with  the 
healing  art;  and  shall  the  soul,  the  never  dying  soul, 
be  entrusted  to  hands  where  there  is  no  wisdom  to 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.       363 

counsel,  no  capacity  to  instruct,  and  where  mere  igno- 
rance as  well  as  mistake  may  prove  fatal  to  all  that  is 
dear  in  its  future  existence?  Reason  dictates  a  dif- 
ferent course,  and  the  great  Head  of  the  church  has 
solemnly  prescribed  it. 

He  has  ordained  that  men  who  preach  the  gospel, 
should  be  deeply  acquainted  with  the  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel. "  The  same  commit  thou  to  faithful  men,  who 
shall  be  able  to  teach  others  also."  And  again,  "  Not 
a  novice,  lest  he  be  lifted  up  with  pride  and  fall  into 
the  snare  of  the  devil." 

They  who  are  admitted  to  the  work  of  the  ministry, 
should  possess  a  sound  understanding  well  cultivated 
by  study;  they  should  have  an  acquaintance  with  the 
general  subjects  of  literature,  and  particularly  with 
such  us  stand  more  immediately  connected  with  their 
sacred  employment.  This,  at  all  times  necessary,  is 
perhaps  peculiarly  important  at  the  present  day,  when 
not  a  few  who  profess  to  be  lovers  of  the  sciences,  de- 
spise the  humbling  doctrines  of  the  cross.  But  above 
all  should  they  be  thoroughly  versed  in  the  word  of 
life,  that  they  may  be  able  by  sound  doctrine  both  to 
exhort  and  to  convince  the  gainsay ers;  to  put  to  silence 
the  ignorance  of  foolish  men;  and  as  wise  scribes  well 
instructed  in  the  kingdom,  to  bring  out  of  their  treasure 
things  new  and  old.  No  attainments  in  mere  human 
science,  will  make  up  for  this.  Be  men  ever  so  learned 
or  eloquent,  if  the  gospel  be  not  understood,  its  glori- 
ous truths  cannot  be  clearly  exhibited  and  made  to  bear 
upon  the  conscience;  and  where  this  is  not  done,  the 
chief  object  for  which  the  gospel  ministry  was  insti- 


364      DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

tuted  is  lost.  Give  us  ministers  then  who  both  under- 
stand and  love  the  truth,  and  who  are  willing  to 
make  any  sacrifice  in  its  cause.  There  are  the  teachers 
whom  God's  word  approves, — men  who  are  capable  of 
serving  the  church,  and  whose  labours  she  now  calls 
for,  to  build  up  her  wastes  and  to  extend  her  promised 
empire  over  the  earth.  Shall  we  hear  her  call,  and  set 
about  the  good  work  of  increasing  the  number  of  such 
teachers? 

That  this  is  our  duty  is  just  as  certain  as  that  our 
agency  is  at  all  demanded  to  promote  the  great  work 
of  salvation  and  the  glory  of  God's  name.  But  what 
does  this  duty  imply?  Most  certainly,  that  we  offer 
up  daily  and  ardent  prayer  for  the  spirit  to  be  poured 
out  upon  our  schools  and  colleges,  and  upon  our  young 
men  generally,  that  those  who  have  the  requisite  natu- 
ral gifts,  may  be  furnished  with  spiritual  qualifications 
for  the  gospel  ministry;  that  we  carefully  seek  out  the 
youth  thus  designated,  and  encourage  them  to  look 
forward  to  this  sacred  oflfice;  and  where  it  is  necessary, 
(and  that  it  will  be  necessary  to  a  great  extent,  there 
can  be  no  question,)  that  we  afford  them  pecuniary  aid. 
This  is  what  the  great  Head  of  the  church  demands  of 
us,  and  what  by  his  word  and  providence  He  has  long 
pressed  upon  our  attention.  Shall  we  now  hear  his 
voice,  and  engage  in  this  charity  with  a  zeal  which  is 
steady  and  enlightened,  and  which  knows  no  relaxation 
or  intermission  till  the  object  be  accomplished? 

It  is  an  undertaking  which  is  peculiarly  expressive 
of  our  love  to  Him  who  shed  his  blood  in  our  behalf, 
and  but  a  just  acknowledgment  of  the  high  born  privi- 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.       365 

leges  we  possess.  Nay  it  associates  us  with  him  who 
is  the  great  lord  of  the  harvest,  the  first  born  from  the 
dead,  and  the  prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earth.  It  w^as 
a  part  of  his  work  while  he  tabernacled  in  the  flesh  to 
provide  pastors  and  teachers  for  the  destitute — and 
though  now  exalted  to  his  throne  in  the  Heavens,  he 
still  makes  this  an  object  of  his  care.  Will  it  be  no 
honour  to  be  found  active  in  the  same  cause?  I  know 
of  no  charity  more  elevated  in  its  design,  or  more 
important  in  its  result.  It  is  vital  to  all  the  best  inte- 
rests of  man.  Do  you  love  your  country?  Can  you 
promote  her  prosperity  more  effectually  than  by  increas- 
ing the  number  of  those,  w^ho  shall  essentially  contri- 
bute to  diffuse  the  lights  of  science  and  religion — men 
who  shall  foster  your  schools,  and  take  an  active  part 
in  the  instruction  of  the  rising  generation?  Without 
a  measure  of  this  kind,  what  security  can  you  have  for. 
your  civil  institutions?  Can  these  be  supported  with- 
out the  aid  of  moral  virtue?  Can  you  hope  for  the 
existence  of  this  w^ithout  the  preaching  of  the  gospel 
and  the  regular  administration  of  its  ordinances?  Poli- 
ticians may  contrive,  legislators  make  laws,  and  phi- 
losophers dream,  but  w^here  Jesus  Christ  is  not  preached, 
the  great  principles  of  morality  will  neither  be  under- 
stood nor  regarded. 

If  the  history  of  the  world  can  throw  any  light  upon 
the  character  of  man,  it  teaches  this  truth  if  no  more, 
that  without  revelation,  and  this  faithfully  expounded, 
he  will  not  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  that 
without  this  knowledge,  he  can  not  be  restrained  from 
the  most  odious  vices.  We  hold  it  a  position  clearly 
32 


366       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

demonstrable,  that  without  religion  there  can  be  no 
morality, — and  without  morality,  no  well  ordered  and 
peaceful  society.  The  alternative  then  lies  before  us, 
either  to  maintain  and  promote  religion,  by  providing 
a  competent  and  faithful  ministry,  or  tosink  into  moral 
degradation  and  ruin. 

Nor  is  the  time  distant,  unless  we  can  be  roused  to  a 
sense  of  our  danger,  when  the  consequences  of  our 
supineness  will  be  deeply  felt.  The  facts  have  been 
stated,  which  tell  you  how  far  already  population  has 
gained  upon  the  means  of  moral  culture;  what  wide 
spread  regions  have  become  wastes,  and  what  the  inevi- 
table result  in  a  few  years  will  be,  if  the  Christian  and 
philanthropist  do  not  awake,  and  put  forth  all  their 
energy  to  check  the  mighty  evil. 

But  why  do  I  speak  of  the  temporal  interests  of  men? 
What  will  become  of  their  souls?  We  have  been  told 
of  the  vast  multitudes  who  are  as  sheep  without  a  shep- 
herd, having  none  to  heal  them  when  diseased,  to  bind 
them  up  when  broken,  and  to  bring  them  back  w^lien 
driven  away.  We  are  assured  that  the  shades  of  moral 
darkness  are  thickening  upon  them,  and  that  the  hour 
hastens  when  if  no  relief  be  afforded,  the  last  beam  of 
light  will  be  extinguished.  Were  we  ignorant  of  their 
state,  we  might  slumber  over  their  destiny  with  com- 
parative innocence,  and  they  might  find  their  way  to 
the  pit,  without  drawing  down  the  guilt  of  their  blood 
upon  our  heads.  But  we  know  their  condition;  we 
know  that  they  have  none  to  break  to  them  the  bread 
of  life;  and  that  if  eternal  mercy  does  not  step  aside 
from  its  ordinary  course  to  save  men  without  the  min- 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.       367 

istry  of  the  word,  they  must  go  down  to  the  chambers 
of  death.  Why,  let  me  ask,  has  the  providence  of  God 
disclosed  this  fact,  but  to  touch  our  hearts  and  stimu- 
late our  exertions?  To  us  they  look  with  an  imploring 
eye;  and  God  will  make  us  answerable  if  through  our 
want  of  effort  they  shall  implore  in  vain.  But  think, 
my  dear  brethren,  of  the  vast  amount  of  good  which 
this  scheme  of  benevolence  proposes. 

When  you  have  fed  the  hungry  and  clothed  the 
naked,  you  have  performed  an  act  of  charity  which  is 
grateful  to  your  feelings,  and  which  if  done  out  of  love 
to  your  Saviour  will  not  be  forgotten  by  Him  when  the 
universe  shall  be  assembled  at  his  bar.  When  you 
have  instructed  the  ignorant  or  reclaimed  the  vicious 
you  have  done  an  important  service  to  individuals,  and 
are  entitled  to  the  thanks  of  society;  and  if  you  have 
ever  converted  a  soul  to  the  living  God,  you  have  been 
instrumental  of  a  good  which  far  outweighs  the  mere 
deliverance  of  a  nation  from  the  greatest  earthly  cala- 
mities. But  what  is  this  compared  with  having  given 
to  the  church  one  able  and  faithful  minister  of  the  New 
Testament,  who,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  providence, 
may  be  instrumental  of  saving  hundreds  from  the  gates 
of  perdition  and  making  them  heirs  of  immortal  life. 
Who  knows  in  this  case  if  you  do  not  begin  a  work  of 
mercy  which  shall  go  on  w^ith  progressive  energy  till 
the  last  day?  Such  a  minister  may  be  the  means  not 
only  of  saving  many  by  his  personal  labours,  but  of 
raising  up  others  in  this  blessed  work — and  these, 
others  who  shall  convey  their  spirit  to  a  new  genera- 


368        DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

tion,  till  all  the  earth  shall  hear  and  all  the  ends  of  the 
world  be  turned  unto  the  Lord. 

I  press  this  subject  with  the  greater  confidence,  from 
the  interest  it  has  awakened  in  other  parts  of  the  church, 
and  from  the  fact  that  there  are  many  young  men  of 
hopeful  piety  and  promising  talent,  now  waiting  to  be 
drawn  from  their  less  important  spheres  into  the  minis- 
try of  the  gospel. 

In  the  eastern  section  of  our  country,  a  single  society 
organized  two  years  since,  have  already  two  hundred 
youth  in  different  stages  of  their  education  destined  to 
the  gospel  ministry.  Our  brethren  to  the  west,  have 
also  gone  before  us  in  this  work  and  labour  of  love; 
and  besides  collecting  considerable  funds  for  the  object, 
have  taken  up  about  thirty  young  men,  who  are  fitting 
to  enter  the  Lord's  vineyard.  They  tell  us  that  two 
hundred  more  from  their  own  district  could  be  added 
to  their  present  list,  had  they  the  means  of  support. 
Shall  we  not  rise  up  to  the  same  work,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  such  noble  examples?  There  is  no  want  of 
men  for  this  operation.  God  has  prepared  them  by  the 
requisite  natural  gifts,  and  by  the  sanctifying  power  of 
his  grace.  It  is  ours  to  search  them  out,  and  furnish 
them  with  the  means  of  education.  If  we  will  not 
embark  in  this  enterprise,  where  is  our  love  to  the 
Saviour, — where  our  love  to  the  souls  of  men?  Can 
we  be  Christ's  friends,  if  we  do  not  possess  his  spirit? 
Can  his  spirit  dwell  in  us,  if  we  feel  not  for  the  unin- 
structed  multitudes  as  he  did?  Or  can  we  with  sincerity 
pray  to  him  as  the   great  Lord  of  the  harvest  to  send 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.  369 

forth  labourers  into  his  harvest,  while  we  do  not  cheer- 
fully put  our  own  hands  to  the  work,  and  endeavour  to 
increase  their  number? 

The  society,  in  whose  name  I  address  you,  is  organ- 
ized for  the  express  purpose  of  raising  up  ministers  for 
the  Presbyterian  church.  They  will  select  none  for  this 
object  but  those  who  in  the  judgment  of  charity  are  the 
real  friends  of  Christ,  and  who  in  the  spirit  of  self- 
denial  are  willing  to  devote  their  lives  to  the  promotion 
of  his  cause;  men  whose  talents  are  such  as  to  give  a 
reasonable  pledge  of  their  usefulness.  And  they  intend 
not  to  send  them  forth,  till  they  have  made  those  at- 
tainments in  human  and  divine  knowledge  which  the 
rules  of  our  church  have  wisely  prescribed. 

We  know  indeed  that  this  is  an  undertaking  of  great 
responsibility, — that  in  the  selection  of  the  youth  and 
the  application  of  the  funds  the  soundest  discretion  will 
be  called  for,  and  that  no  human  wisdom  will  be  suffi- 
cient always  to  prevent  mistake.  But  the  object  is  one 
of  the  highest  moment,  involving  in  it  the  dearest  hopes 
of  man;  nor  can  we  think  of  relinquishing  it  on  account 
of  the  difficulties  which  it  presents.  The  work  is  of 
the  Lord,  and  He  will  make  it  prosper,  if  we  take 
counsel  of  Him.  We  come  to  you,  brethren,  to  ask 
your  aid  in  this  important  design — to  give,  as  God  has 
prospered  you,  and  to  send  up  your  prayers  to  Heaven 
for  a  blessing  to  rest  upon  your  bounty.  Who  knows 
but  the  salvation  of  hundreds  is  suspended  on  the  chari- 
ties of  this  evening  ? 

Twenty  young  men  of  promising  talents  have  already 
been  selected  anil  placed  upon  the  funds  of  our  infant 
32* 


370      DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN    EDUCATED   MINISTRY. 

institution.  With  hearts  burning  with  love  to  the 
Saviour,  they  long  to  be  prepared  to  preach  to  the  des- 
titute the  everlasting  gospel  in  his  name.  Shall  they 
be  encouraged  in  this  desire?  Or  must  we  say  to  them, 
there  is  no  hope — the  bosom  of  piety  does  not  feel — 
the  hands  of  beneficence  are  not  open — return  to  your 
former  occupations,  and  sigh  in  secret  over  the  woes 
which  you  cannot  relieve? 

I  will  not  anticipate  such  a  result.  I  trust  that  a 
institution,  founded  in  benevolence,  and  aiming  at  a 
good  so  immense,  will  find  a  patronage  in  every  heart 
that  loves  our  Lord  Jesus, — in  every  friend  of  man. 
The  cry  of  perishing  millions  in  heathen  lands,  unites 
with  the  voice  of  thousands  in  our  own  country,  to  in- 
crease the  number  of  those  who  publish  the  gospel  of 
peace,  who  bring  glad  tidings  of  good  things.  Let  us 
with  cheerful  hearts  cast  our  offering  into  the  treasury 
of  the  Lord, — and  seek  to  become  partakers  with  them 
who  are  instrumental  in  turning  many  to  righteousness, 
and  who  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament, 
and  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever. 


DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY.        37  1 


APPENDIX. 


A. 

Table,  showing  the  number  of  Alumni,  and  the  ivhole  number  of 
Ministers  educated  at  the  principal  Colleges  in  the  United 
States,  and  the  number  of  Alumni  living,  and  the  number  of 
Ministers  living  according  to  the  latest  information. 


Harvard, 

Yale, 

Princeton, 

Columbia, 

Brown, 

Dartmouth, 

Carlisle, 

Williams, 

Union, 

Bowdoin, 

Middlebur}^, 

South  Carolina,.. 


Total, 


Dateoftlie 
Catalogue 
examined. 


1818 
1817 
1815 
1814 
1817 
1816 
1813 
1817 
1813 
1816 
1817 
1816 


Number  of  Number  of 


Alumni. 


4442 

a300 

1425 

608 

829 

1190 

272 

473 

291 

85 

260 

275 


Ministers. 


1198 

847 

297 

67 

149 

263 

62 

112 

33 

2 

55 

5 


Alumni 
living 


1708 
1658 
1028 

715 

992 
243 
434 
280 
80 
250 
260 


7,643 


Ministers 
living. 


205 
357 
147 

130 

228 

58 

107 

32 

2 

55 

5 


1,406 


The  above  is  an  extract  fi-om  the  Appendix  to  the  third 
annual  report  of  the  American  Society  for  the  education  of 
pious  youth  for  the  gospel  ministry.  That  it  is  entu'ely  ac- 
curate we  need  not  suppose ;  and  from  the  nature  of  the  case, 
the  calculation  could  not  be  brought  up  to  the  present  time. 
Still  it  is  an  important  document,  to  show  the  present  want 
of  a  competently  educated  ministry.  For  want  of  sufficient 
data,  the  Universities  of  North  Carolina,  Georgia,  and  Ken- 


372       DUTY  OF  SUSTAINING  AN  EDUCATED  MINISTRY. 

tucky,  the  several  Colleges  of  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania,  and 
the  College  of  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.,  with  some  other  in- 
stitutions of  recent  establishment,,  are  not  brought  into  the 
account.  It  is  known  that  most  of  these  seminaries  have 
furnished  the  church  with  a  number  of  respectable  ministers ; 
though  with  regard  to  several,  the  number  has  been  vei*y 
small.  If  we  should  suppose  the  whole  number  from  these 
various  institutions  to  be  now  two  hundred,  it  would  probably 
be  thought  a  large  estimate.  And  if  to  these  should  be  added 
one  hundred  and  fifty  for  such  as  have  been  educated  in 
foreign  countries,  and  now  resident  among  us,  it  would  swell 
the  sum  total  to  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty-six.  How  many 
there  are  who  have  not  received  the  advantages  of  a  public 
education,  but  who,  nevertheless,  have  been  well  instructed, 
it  is  not  easy  to  say.  But  all  would  probably  agree  that  they 
can  not  be  more  than  half  as  numerous  as  those  who  have 
been  educated  in  our  Colleges.  Put  them,  however,  at  a 
thousand,  or  even  twelve  hundred,  and  the  whole  number 
falls  short  of  three  thousand ;  a  moderate  supply  for  three 
millions,  or  one  third  of  our  population. 


B. 

Many  deceive  themselves  as  to  the  deplorable  state  of  our 
countiy,  by  fixing  their  eyes  solely  on  their  own  immediate 
vicinity.  But  it  becomes  Christian  benevolence  and  philan- 
throphy  to  look  abroad.  The  directors  of  the  American 
Education  Society  make  the  following  statement. 

"  In  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  contain- 
ing according  to  the  last  census,  a  population  of  1,223,048, 
there  are  about  110  competent  ministers, — leaving  1,113,048 
destitute  of  proper  religious  instruction.  A  respectable  gen- 
tleman, who  is  a  native  citizen  of  South  Carolina,  informs  us 
that  in  an  ancient  district  of  the  state,  embracing  an  extent 
of  9,000  square  miles  contiguous  to  the  sea  coast,  there  is  but 


APPENDIX.  373 

one  place  of  worship,  and  that  not  used;  and  not  one  Christ- 
ian church  or  minister  of  any  denomination." 

The  states  of  Indiana,  Mississippi,  and  Louisiana,  with  the 
territories  of  Alabama,  Illinois,  Micliigan  and  Missouri,  con- 
tain a  population  of  about  350,000,  and  nearly  the  same  num- 
ber of  square  miles  as  the  whole  of  Europe,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Russian  Empire.  Yet  in  this  vast  region, 
which  is  becoming  populous  and  wealthy  with  unexampled 
rapidit},  we  cannot  ascertain  after  much  enquiry,  that  there 
are  more  than  seventeen  competent  and  stated  preachers  of 
the  gospel ;  that  is,  less  than  one  to  20,000  souls." 

Li  East  Tennessee,  which  contained  in  1810,  17  counties, 
and  901,367  inhabitants,  an  intelligent  gentleman  on  the  spot 
says,  "There  are  14  counties,  in  which  there  is  not  a  single 
regular  or  educated  minister  of  the  gospel." 

From  the  same  document  it  appears,  by  a  letter  fi-om  a  re- 
spectable gentleman  in  Virginia,  that  in  eight  counties  of 
that  state,  west  of  the  Great  Ridge,  containing  48,587  inhabi- 
tants, only  about  one  thousand  are  connected  with  the  Pres- 
byterians, Baptists  and  Methodists,  leaving  more  than  47,000 
not  connected  with  any  religious  institutions  whatever;  that 
in  another  district  53,000  people  are  in  the  same  dreadful 
state;  in  another  20,000,  except  a  very  few  Baptists  and 
Methodists;  and  in  another  60,000,  who  are  connected  with 
no  religious  denomination  of  any  kind. 

It  would  be  easy  to  swell  this  note  with  particular  state- 
ments of  the  destitute  condition  of  many  other  large  districts 
of  our  countiy.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  there  are  more  than 
four  hundred  congregations  connected  with  the  Presbyterian 
Church  destitute  of  the  stated  ministration  of  the  word  and 
ordinances,  many  of  whom  are  able  to  support  pastors. 
Christians  of  this  communion!  can  you  contemplate  this 
fact,  and  still  hesitate  whether  you  shall  contribute  a  portion 
of  your  worldly  substance  to  raise  up  teachers  for  the  des- 
titute ? 


ADDRESS, 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  CUMMDfG.* 


Mournful  day!  The  sympathies,  and  anguish  of  a 
thousand  hearts  proclaim  it  to  be  a  mournful  day. 
When  have  we  seen  such  an  assembly  as  this?  Every 
bosom  swells  with  a  sigh,  every   eye  runs  down  with 

*  This  address  was  occasioned  by  the  melancholy  death  of  Mrs. 
Sarah  Camming,  consort  of  the  Reverend  Hooper  Gumming, 
Pastor  of  the  second  Presbyterian  church  in  Newark.  She  died 
by  a  fall  from  the  rocks  at  Patterson,  on  the  morning  of  the  22d  of 
June,  1812,  in  the  23d  year  ol  her  age. 

She  had  gone  with  Mr.  Gumming  to  spend  the  sabbath  at  Pat- 
terson, where  he  was  appointed  to  preach,  by  the  Presbytery.  On 
Monday  morning,  they  took  a  walk  to  the  falls  of  the  Passaic, 
which  lie  in  the  neighbourhood.  When  they  had  finished  their  view 
of  the  wonderful  scenery,  which  this  place  affords,  Mrs.  Gumming 
fell  from  a  high  part  of  the  western  rock,  an  elevation  of  about 
seventy  feet,  into  the  basin  below. 

She  had  just  before  complained  of  dizziness,  and  sat  down  with 
Mr.  Gumming  at  a  little  distance  from  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
until  she  was  composed  Wishing  to  take  another  view  of  a  scene 
so  sublime,  and  to  her  so  novel  and  interesting,  she  ventured  again, 
with  her  husband,  to  the  margin  of  the  rock.  When  they  had  stood 
a  tew  minutes,  he  said,  "  It  is  time  to  return,"  and  requested  her  to 
accompany  him.  The  path  being  narrow,  he  stepped  back  a  pace 
or  two,  supposing  she  would  follow.     Alas!  only  a  cry  is  heard. 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  GUMMING.    375 

tears.  Who  could  have  expected  the  awful  event  we 
now  deplore?  We  know  that  we  are  mortal.  We 
know  that  death  may  assail  us,  at  any  moment,  and  in 
numberless  forms;  but  how  unlooked  for,  and  in  what 
distressing  circumstances,  has  this  dread  messenger  ap- 
proached in  the  case  before  us! 

Did  our  young  friend  languish  on  her  bed,  and  after 
leaving  her  dying  counsels  to  those  around  her,  pass 
away  into  eternity?  Did  she  apprehend  the  stroke, 
which  severed  her  from  earth  and  all  that  earth  holds 
dear?  Did  she  give  the  parting  look,  or  parting  hand? 
Did  she  say  but  once,  I  die— I  go  to  Jesus— I  bid  fare- 
well?     Alas  I  none  of  all   these    circumstances  were 

He  turns-but  she  is  gone  from  his  sight  for  ever!  In  the  dreadful 
agitation  of  his  mind,  he  runs  backward  and  forward  along  the 
awful  brink,  crying,  "  she  is  fallen!  she  is  fallen!  " 

At  this  perilous  moment,  a  lad  of  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
who  was  providentially  but  a  few  rods  distant,  flew  to  his  assist- 
ance  and  once  actually  held  him  by  the  skirt,  when  he  seemed  in 
the  act  of  throwing  himself  down  the  precipice.  They  both  descend- 
ed by  the  usual  passage  to  the  foot  of  the  rock ;  and  again  the  agom- 
zina  husband  would  have  plunged  into  the  abyss,  but  for  the  firm 
resfstance  of  the  youth,  destined  in  providence  to  preserve  hmi,durmg 
this  paroxysm  of  unutterable  grief.  In  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Cummmg 
became  composed,  and  manifested  a  spirit  of  devout  resignation. 

Hundreds  crowded  to  the  mournful  place,  and  the  deepest  sym- 
pathy was  seen  working  in  every  bosom.  Great  apprehensions 
were  entertained  for  a  time  that  the  body  could  not  be  found.  The 
water  deep,  the  current  rapid,  and  a  huge  bed  of  rocks  lymg  at 
different  depths,  it  was  believed  that  the  chance  was  very  small. 
A  search  was  immediately  commenced,  and  continued  till  late  at 
nicrht,  but  in  vain.  At  seven  o'clock  the  next  morning,  when  only 
a  few  persons  were  present,  and  these  chiefly  of  Mr.  Cumming's 
eongrecration,  the  body  was  taken  up  by  one  of  the  elders  of  his 


376    ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  GUMMING. 

permitted.  In  the  walk  of  pleasure  she  meets  with 
death.  While  admiring  the  works  of  her  Creator; 
while  her  heart  was  beating  with  innocent  and  new 
delight;  she  slides,  in  an  instant,  from  the  awful  pre- 
cipice into  the  troubled  wave  beneath.  Who  can  de- 
scribe the  anguish  of  her  surviving  husband?  W^ho 
shall  prevent  him  from  rushing  down  the  dreadful  steep, 
in  this  moment  of  unutterable  distress?  That  merciful 
Providence,  only,  which  planned  the  whole  from  eter- 
nity, and  which  ordered  every  circumstance  of  this 
painful  event,  by  counsels  as  efficient  as  they  were 
wise. 

God  saves  the  distracted  sufferer,  when  he  had  no 

church.  It  was  conveyed  to  Newark;  and  at  ten  o'clock  the  next 
day  the  funeral  was  attended  in  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church, 
by  a  great  concourse  of  people  from  Newark  and  the  neighbouring 
towns.  Tears  flowed  from  a  thousand  eyes.  Never  was  greater 
sympathy  excited  on  any  occasion .  The  profoundest  silence  reigned 
through  the  assembly ;  and  the  procession,  formed  in  conveying 
this  lamented  female  to  the  tomb,  amounted  to  more  than  sixteen 
hundred  persons  of  both  sexes. 

Mrs.  Gumming  was  born  of  reputable  parents  in  Portland,  Maine, 
and  received  her  education,  in  that  town*.  She  was  married  and 
removed  to  Newark  a  few  weeks  only  before  her  death.  Her 
person  was  agreeable,  her  manners  simple,  and  her  mind  strong 
and  ingenuous.  Torn  from  her  husband  in  all  the  loveliness  of 
youth,  she  has  left  him,  with  her  widowed  mother,  and  only  sister, 
to  mourn  her  loss. 

The  author  of  the  Address  has  given  this  detail,  not  only  to  sat- 
isfy the  curiosity  of  the  public,  but  to  mark  more  distinctly  the 
footsteps  of  Providence  in  an  occurrence  so  wonderful  and  painful 
in  all  its  circumstances. 

Newark,  July  lUh,  1812. 

*  Her  family  name  was  Emmons 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF   MRS.  GUMMING.         377 

power  to  save  himself.  A  fellow  youth,  as  an  angel 
from  Heaven,  is  sent  to  pluck  him  from  the  brink,  and  to 
restrain  him  for  a  moment,  till  reason  resume  her  throne. 
But  why  do  I  attempt  a  picture  which  no  mortal  can 
ever  draw?  Why  do  I  recall  a  scene  which  plants  a 
dagger  in  the  soul?  .  ^ 

Let  me  rather  present  the  consolations  which  are 
afforded  on  this  occasion,  and  point  you  to  the  lesson  of 
divine  instruction,  which  the  occasion  was  designed  to 
give. 

We  mourn  the  loss  of  an  amiable  woman,  torn  from 
her  husband  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  and  torn  from  him 
under  circumstances  which  excite  the  liveliest  sympa- 
thy in  every  heart.  But  we  have,  for  our  comfort,  the 
blessed  assurance,  that  this  dark  and  trying  event  has 
taken  place  by  the  appointmeftt  of  an  infinitely  wise 
and  righteous  God. 

His  providence  extends  to  the  falling  of  a  sparrow; 
and  his  providence  is  always  just,  always  wise.  He 
does  nothing,  and  suffers  nothing  to  be  done,  which  He 
will  not  overrule  for  his  own  glory  and  the  highest  good 
of  his  great  kingdom.  His  immediate  designs  are  often 
out  of  sight  We  cannot  tell  wherefore  it  is,  that  He 
deals  thus  with  us.  The  wheels  of  his  government 
move  high  and  dreadful.  His  path  is  in  the  great 
waters,  and  his  footsteps  are  not  known.  Of  this,  how- 
ever, we  may  be  certain,  that  He  has  some  great  and 
glorious  purpose  to  answer  by  every  event  which  be- 
falls. 

This  is  unquestionably  the  case  in  the  distressing 
providence  before  us.  To  feeble  and  short-sighted 
3  5 


378    ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  GUMMING. 

man  it  presents  a  cloud  of  impenetrable  darkness.  But, 
as  sure  as  God  is  upon  the  throne,  and  controls  the 
events  of  the  universe,  this  cloud  has  a  bright  side,  and 
one  day  its  brightness  will  appear. 

Yes,  ye  mourning  friends,  this  thick  cloud,  this  cloud 
of  astonishment  and  terrour,  shall  be  turned  into  the  light 
of  the  morning.  Into  the  light  of  the  morning?  Nay, 
into  the  blaze  of  yonder  sun.  Your  weeping  eyes  shall 
see  that  Infinite  Wisdom  and  Goodness  planned  this  dis- 
pensation, and  that  not  a  circumstance  could  be  altered  for 
the  better.  Is  not  this  a  strong  ground  of  consolation? 
To  all  the  friends  of  God's  government,  to  all  who  are 
"w^illing  that  God  should  be  on  the  throne,  it  cannot  be 
otherwise. 

I  have  to  add,  surprising  as  it  may  appear,  that  the 
present  affliction  is  not  only  sure  to  serve  the  purposes 
of  God's  glory  and  the  interests  of  his  great  kingdom; 
it  will  promote  the  personal  happiness  of  those  whom 
it  immediately  affects,  provided  they  love  God  and  sub- 
mit themselves  to  his  righteous  providence. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  comprehensive  and  consoling 
promises  of  the  scriptures,  that  all  things  "  shall  w^ork 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  to  them  w^ho 
are  the  called  according  to  his  purpose."  Nothing  can 
fall  out  amiss  to  them.  Whether  it  be  trouble  or  joy, 
their  highest,  their  eternal  welfare  goes  on.  The  se- 
verest afflictions  do  but  humble  them  and  bring  them 
nearer  to  God.  They  are  a  fire  to  take  away  their 
dross:  they  detach  them  from  the  world,  and  ripen 
them  for  the  purity  and  blessedness  of  Heaven. 

W^hence  the  Apostle  thus  addresses  the  afflicted  He- 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  GUMMING.    379 

brews:  "  We  have  had  fathers  of  our  flesh,  who  cor- 
rected us,  and  we  gave  them  reverence.  Shall  we  not 
much  rather  be  in  subjection  to  the  Father  of  Spirits, 
and  live?  For  they  verily,  for  a  few  days,  chastened 
us  after  their  own  pleasure,  but  He  for  our  profit,  that 
we  might  be  made  partakers  of  his  holiness.  Where- 
fore lift  up  the  hands,  which  hang  down,  and  the  feeble 
knees." 

Blessed  be  God,  important  and  consoling  as  this  con- 
sideration is,  it  is  not  the  last,  nor  the  chief,  which  w^e 
have  to  offer  on  this  occasion. 

Our  young  friend,  whose  death  we  now  lament,  was 
a  professor  of  religion,  and  one  of  its  brightest  orna- 
ments. She  was  not  merely  an  intelligent  and  amiable 
member  of  society,  who  easily  and  strongly  attached  to 
herself  those  who  had  the  pleasure  of  her  acquaintance 
— she  was  a  Christian.  She  early  imbibed  sentiments 
favourable  to  religion,  through  the  medium  of  a  pious 
mother  and  sister,  and  about  two  years  since,  made  an 
open  and  explicit  avowal  of  her  friendship  to  the  Re- 
deemer. From  that  period,  she  has  been  considered 
by  those  who  knew  her  best,  as  unusually  devoted  to 
the  duties  and  interests  of  religion.  She  was  constant 
and  fervent  in  prayer.  It  is  known  that,  on  the  last 
night  of  her  life,  she  was  particularly  and  solemnly  en- 
gaged in  this  duty;  as  if,  excited  by  the  omniscient 
Spirit,  to  prepare  for  the  great  event  so  near  at  hand. 
She  loved  the  distinguishing  truths  of  the  gospel,  and 
took  a  special  interest  in  the  advancement  of  the  Re- 
deemer's kinsjdom.  Christ  and  his  cross  were  to  her 
living   and  precious   themes.     The   friends  of  Jesus, 


380         ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  GUMMING. 

whether  rich  or  poor,  were  the  friends  of  her  heart. 
Her  benevolence  was  ardent.  As  an  angel  of  mercy, 
she  was  often  seen  at  the  beds  of  the  sick  and  the  dying 
The  tears  of  the  aged  and  helpless  widow  can  bear 
witness  to  the  tender  sympathies  of  her  soul.  Such 
was  her  humility,  such  her  discreet  and  amiable  deport- 
ment, that  she  was  affectionately  and  universally  be- 
loved by  the  Christian  society  from  which  she  came, 
and,  as  far  as  time  and  circumstances  permitted,  no  less 
beloved  by  her  acquaintance  in  this  place. 

We  have  reason  to  believe  that  she  has  exchanged  a 
world  of  sin  and  sorrow  for  a  world  of  light  and  glory. 
Her  departure  was  sudden  and  unexpected,  but  not  the 
less  safe.  The  covenant  mercy  of  God  never  forsakes 
those  whom  it  once  embraces.  She  falls  in  an  instant 
out  of  time  into  eternity,  but  underneath  her  are  the 
everlasting  arms.  Quick  as  a  beam  of  light,  her  soul 
bursts  the  darkness  which  shrouded  it,  and  makes  its 
way  to  the  throne  of  God;  but  it  does  not  go  unaccom- 
panied by  angels,  nor  unwashed  in  the  Redeemer's 
blood. 

Why  then  should  we  mourn?  Not  because  she  has 
flown  so  soon  to  the  bosom  of  her  Saviour.  Hear 
what  a  voice  from  Heaven  proclaims:  "  Blessed  are 
the  dead,  that  die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth;  yea, 
saith  the  Spirit,  for  they  rest  from  their  labours,  and 
their  works  do  follow  them.'*  There  they  are  before 
the  throne  of  God,  day  and  night.  They  rejoice  with- 
out intermission,  and  without  end.  They  have  none  of 
the  darkness  and  sorrow  which  encompass  us.  They 
have  done  with  sinning  and  repenting,  with  doubting 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  GUMMING.         381 

and  fearing.  They  wrestle  no  more,  they  strive  no 
more.  Their  warfare  is  accomplished,  their  dangers 
are  past;  God  has  for  ever  wiped  away  their  tears. 
Let  us  lift  up  our  souls  to  those  shining  and  tranquil 
regions,  whither  they  are  gone,  and,  instead  of  repin- 
ing at  their  departure,  let   us  prepare  to  follow  them. 

Turn  your  thoughts  to  these  things,  my  dear  brother, 
and  let  your  heart  repose  itself  on  the  besom  of  eternal 
love  and  mercy.  Great  as  your  loss  is,  God  is  good, 
God  is  wise.  His  promises  are  rich,  his  truth  is  un- 
changeable, his  power  is  almighty.  He  loves  those 
whom  He  afflicts,  and  He  afflicts  them  because  He  loves 
them. 

Think  it  not  strange,  that  this  trial  has  overtaken 
you.  God  will  bring  good  out  of  evil,  light  out  of 
darkness,  joy  out  of  sorrow.  If  you  know  not  what 
the  Lord  does  now,  you  shall  know  hereafter.  This  is 
the  world  of  faith;  the  next,  the  world  of  vision.  Soon 
the  dark  cloud  shall  be  scattered  and  a  light  poured 
upon  this  path  of  providence,  which  shall  be  full  and 
satisfactory.  In  the  mean  time,  rejoice  that  your  be- 
loved friend  is  not  lost;  though  she  is  gone  from  you. 
A  happier  world  receives  her,  and  she  waits  to  be 
joined  by  those  that  loved  her  here,  in  the  song  of 
praise  which  with  angels  she  has  begun,  but  which 
shall  never,  never,  have  an  end. 

Bear  then  with  Christian  resignation  the  trial  which 

Heaven  hath  appointed;  and  while  you  assure  yourself 

of  the  sympathy  of  many  thousand  hearts,  let  your  eye 

be  steadily  fixed  on  Jesus,  the  author  and  the  finisher 

of  our  faith.     Let  his  example  encourage  you,  and  his 
33* 


382  ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  GUMMING. 

almighty  power  and  grace  be  your  refuge.  May  that 
God,  who  comforth  those  that  are  cast  down,  comfort 
you  under  all  your  sorrows,  and  thus  teach  you  to  com- 
fort others  with  the  comfort  with  which  you  are  com- 
forted of  God.  Who  can  tell  but  one  end  of  this  sore 
bereavement  is  to  enlarge  your  sympathies,  and  deepen 
your  knowledge  of  divine  grace,  that  you  may  be  bet- 
ter able  to  condole  with  others,  and  extend  the  balm  of 
consolation  to  their  wounded  spirits! 

Shall  we  direct  our  minds,  a  moment,  to  some  of 
those  lessons  of  divine  instruction,  which  this  affecting 
providence  seems  intended  to  give? 

God  speaks  loudly  and  solemnly  to  us  on  this  occa- 
sion; and  what  is  the  language  which  he  holds?  Does 
he  not  say,  *  think  not  to  measure  my  proceedings  by 
the  short  line  of  your  understandings.  Expect  not  fully 
to  explore  the  paths  of  my  providence  in  this  world.' 
"  My  ways  are  not  as  your  ways,  nor  my  thoughts  as 
your  thoughts.  For  as  the  Heavens  are  higher  than 
the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and 
my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts." 

Had  the  destiny  of  our  young  friends  been  lodged  in  the 
hands  of  men,  how  different  would  have  been  the  result. 
Who  that  thinks  of  the  union  recently  formed,  of  the 
tender  friendship  which  glowed  in  their  faithful 
bosoms,  of  the  bright  prospect  which  was  opening  be- 
fore them,  but  must  stand  astonished  at  what  has  hap- 
pened? This  astonishment,  however,  only  proves  how 
wide  God's  counsels  are  from  ours,  and  how  far  his 
wisdom  lies  above  our  sight.  W'hat  could  teach  us 
more  effectually,  that  God  is  great,  and  we  are  little? 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  GUMMING.  383 

We  are  compelled  to  cry,  O  the  depths  of  his  provi- 
dence! "  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his 
ways  past  finding  out!" 

Does  not  God  proclaim  in  our  ears  also  the  uncer- 
tainty of  all  earthly  joys? 

When  the  heart  was  full  of  expectation;  when  the 
fond  imagination  was  dreaming  of  years  of  increasing 
felicity,  how  instantaneous  and  awful  the  change!  In 
one  sad  moment  the  bright  vision  vanishes,  and  all  is 
darkness  and  anguish.  Who  can  trust  to  the  world 
after  this? 

"  Lean  not  on  earlh," — is  the  voice  of  this  Providence. 

"  'Twill  pierce  thee  to  the  heart  : 

A  broken  reed  at  best,  but  oft  a  spear, 

On  whose  sharp  point  peace  bleeds  and  hope  expires." 

Are  we  not  warned  here,  moreover,  of  the  danger 
of  living  a  moment  unprepared  for  death? 

By  how  many  avenues  may  this  last  enemy  approach 
us!  He  may  overtake  us  in  the  midst  of  business,  in  the 
midst  of  pleasure.  He  may  come  without  the  slight- 
est notice.  We  walk  over  the  graves  of  departed  gene- 
rations. Every  step  may  land  us  in  the  tomb.  Why 
then  should  we  procrastinate  in  the  great  work  of  our 
salvation?  Why  should  we  risk  our  immortal  destiny, 
on  the  chances  of  a  life  so  frail?  Why  should  we  do 
this,  for  a  single  moment,  against  the  voice  of  reason, 
and  the  most  solemn  admonitions  of  God's  word  and 
providence?  What  if  our  dear  young  friend  had  de- 
layed her  preparation  for  death?  Where  now  had  been 
her  departed  spirit?  Where  now  the  most  precious  con- 
solation of  her  surviving  friends? 


384         ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  GUMMING. 

Presume  not,  O  sinner,  upon  to-morrow.  Trust  not 
to  a  sick  bed.  To-morrow  may  never  come.  A  sick 
bed  may  be  denied  you.  From  the  midst  of  health, 
you  may  be  called  to  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  and 
your  eternal  state  unalterably  decided. 

Christians,  is  there  not  here  a  peculiar  and  solemn 
voice  to  you?  The  Lord,  you  see,  comes  suddenly  to 
his  people,  as  well  as  to  others.  Our  young  sister  had 
not  time  to  trim  her  lamp.  To  her  the  coming  of 
Christ  was  as  the  lightning,  which  shineth  out  of  the 
east  unto  the  west.  Thus  it  may  be  to  you.  Are 
"your  loins  girded  about,  and  your  lights  burning;  '* 
and  ye  yourselves  like  men  that  wait  for  the  return  of 
their  Lord?  Is  your  house  in  order?  Are  you  doing 
the  very  things  which  Christ  commands  you  and  doing 
them  with  the  zeal  and  activity  of  faithful  servants?  I 
beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the  mourning  which  covers 
these  altars,  not  to  sleep  as  do  others.  Time  is  short, 
eternity  is  at  hand.  Soon  its  boundless  scenes  will 
open  upon  us,  and  we  shall  find  ourselves  in  Heaven 
or  Hell.  Let  us  live  for  that  eternity,  which  is  ap- 
proaching. Let  our  eye  be  single  to  the  glory  of  our 
Master.  By  patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  let  us 
commit  the  keeping  of  our  souls  to  him,  as  unto  a  faith- 
ful Creator.  Death  will  then  neither  injure,  nor  sur- 
prise us.  Come  when  or  how  he  may,  he  will  only 
put  a  period  to  our  service  on  earth,  and  introduce  us 
into  the  joy  of  our  Lord. 

Husbands  and  wives,  can  you  forbear  to  reflect  upon 
the  special  interest  which  you  have  in  this  mournful 
scene? 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  GUMMING. 


385 


Does  life  glide  smoothly  away  with  you?  Are  the 
cares  of  each  day  beguiled  by  your  growing  attach- 
ments, and  by  the  cheerful  discharge  of  reciprocal  duties? 

God  grant  that  your  happiness  may  be  prolonged. 
But  remember  the  hour  approaches,  which  dissolves 
the  tenderest  earthly  ties.  The  time  will  come,  when 
you  must  say,  "  Lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far  from 
me,  and  mine  acquaintance  into  darkness."  Look  for- 
ward to  that  eternity  to  which  you  are  going,  and  dwell 
together,  as  the  heirs  of  the  grace  of  life.  Seek  to 
have  your  friendship  sanctified.  Let  it  be  at  once  the 
joyful  instrument  and  the  undoubted  earnest  of  a  more 
exalted  friendship  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  This  will 
soften  the  pangs  of  separation.  This  will  dry  up  the 
tears  of  the  surviver.  Grief  will  pass  away  in  the 
hope  of  meeting  those  you  love,  never  more  to  part,  re- 
fined from  the  imperfections,  and  delivered  from  the 
sorrows  of  the  present  life. 

People  of  this  congregation!  you  are  deep  mourners 
on  this  occasion.  God  has  not  bereaved  your  beloved 
pastor  only;  he  has  bereaved  you.  He  has  snatched 
from  you  one,  to  whom  you  were  already  strongly 
united,  and  whose  virtues  could  not  have  failed  to  at- 
tach you  still  more,  had  she  been  permitted  to  continue 
longer  with  you.  Would  she  not  have  strengthened 
the  bonds  of  Christian  love?  Would  she  not  have 
softened  the  anguish  of  sickness,  and  plucked  the  thorn 
from  the  dying  pillow,  by  her  sympathies  and  her 
prayers?  Why  has  this  amiable  youth  been  sent 
among  you  to  die;  why,  to  die  in  such  a  manner? 
Was  it  merely  to  fill  your  minds  with  grief?     Was  it 


386  ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  CUIMMING. 

not  to  constrain  you  to  look  at  her  example,  to  carry 
your  minds  forward  to  eternity,  to  think  of  that  Heaven 
to  which  she  is  gone,  and  of  that  Saviour,  through 
whose  blood  and  righteousness  she  has  made  her  en- 
trance there? 

Brethren,  I  do  not  exhort  you  to  weep  with  your 
afflicted  pastor.  I  know  your  hearts  bleed  for  him. 
Let  your  sympathies  carry  you  to  the  throne  of  divine 
mercy.  It  is  not  long  since,  in  this  sacred  place,  you 
publicly  promised  to  pray  for  him.  Now  he  peculiarly 
needs  your  prayers.  Bear  him  affectionately  and  con- 
stantly before  the  throne  of  grace,  and  God  will  sustain 
him. 

Can  I  close  this  address  without  dropping  a  word  to 
the  youth  in  this  assembly? 

You  are  full  of  hope.  You  leap  forward  with  eager 
expectation  to  the  enjoyments  of  the  world.  But  what 
security  can  you  have  against  the  bold  demands  of 
death?  Does  the  pulse  of  health  beat  high  in  your 
veins?  Have  you  a  thousand  charms  to  endear  you  to 
others;  a  thousand  ties  to  bind  you  to  the  world? 
Look  at  yonder  solemn  spectacle.  Could  any  of  these 
availed,  that  sable  covering  had  not  been  there.  The 
loveliness  of  youth,  the  vigour  of  health,  the  charms  of 
virtue,  are  nothing,  when  the  time  which  God  appoints 
is  fully  come. 

Are  you  ready  for  so  solemn  a  change?  Have  the 
first  of  your  days  been  consecrated  to  the  Author  of 
your  beings?  Do  you  know  the  God  of  your  fathers; 
and  are  you  treading  in  the  steps  of  the  pious  youth, 
whose  remains  we  are  now  to  commit  to  the  tomb?     I 


ADDRESS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF    MRS.  GUMMING.  387 

exhort  and  conjure  you  not  to   let  this  affecting  provi- 
dence address  you  in  vain. 

God  in  awful  majesty  is  passing  by.  Will  you  not 
bow  to  him?  He  is  proclaiming  in  your  ears,  "All 
flesh  is  grass,  and  the  glory  thereof  as  the  flower  of 
grass;  the  grass  withereth  and  the  flower  thereof  falleth 
away."  Will  you  let  this  truth  sink  down  into  your 
hearts?  Will  you  henceforth  set  death  and  judgment 
before  you?  Will  you  make  a  business  of  religion? 
Now  is  your  time.  The  tears  which  you  shed  on  this 
occasion  will  be  a  witness  against  you,  if,  from  this 
moment,  you  make  not  the  concerns  of  your  souls  the 
concerns  of  eternity,  the  object  of  your  chief  regard. 
A  louder  call  you  can  not  look  for;  and  if  this  be  re- 
jected, may  not  God,  in  righteous  judgment,  give  you 
to  walk  in  your  own  ways,  and  seal  you  over  to  a  state 
of  awful  retribution?  Our  prayer  is,  that  this  wonder- 
ful dispensation  of  providence  may  issue  in  the  conver- 
sion of  sinners,  and  in  the  greater  watchfulness  and 
fidelity  of  the  Lord's  people. 


I 


I 


.^OBM^r/Q, 


^n'Ano's^"' 


